Queen of the Castle
by DalWriter
Summary: This is my version of what the first episode of Season 4 should have been. Veronica returns to Neptune and Hearst for her sophmore year. She has to contend with the Castle and her own life while she helps a fellow student who is being harrassed and threatened by an unknown source.
1. Homecoming

**Title: ** Queen of the Castle

**Author:** DalWriter

**Rating: **PG-13 language, adult themes, sex, violence

**Summary:** My version of the Season 4 opener. Veronica returns to Neptune and Hearst after her F.B.I. internship. Back at school she has to contend with The Castle while a student who works as a Drag Queen enlists her help to stop the harassment he is enduring.

**Spoilers:** Through _The Bitch is Back_

**Disclaimer:** As much as I would love to own them, I don't. The characters belong to Rob Thomas & the WB. No copyright infringement is intended. This is for entertainment only. I am not making any money off this.

**A/N:** Special thanks to my beta LateVMLover. Despite our disagreements about commas she is an invaluable resource.

**Chapter 1: Homecoming **

Dropping her bags next to the door with a thud, the petite blonde squatted to greet the brown pit bull who launched himself at her wagging his whole body in happiness because his mistress was home. "Backup" she cooed, rubbing him behind the ears in that way all dogs love. The dog's infections energy counterbalanced her jet lag. "How've you been boy? Did you protect Daddy all summer like a good boy?"

"Is that you honey?" Keith Mars inquired emerging from the back room. "I thought your flight got in at 9 tonight. I was going to pick you up."

Kissing her father's cheek Veronica could barely suppress a grin at his disorganization, "Nine this morning, Dad. Nine this morning. And it's fine. Wallace picked me up."

"Are you sure? I could have sworn you said nine tonight." Keith looked perplexed. "And I thought he was in Africa."

"He's back," Veronica assured her befuddled father. "If you would just break down and get a Blackberry, Dad. It has a calendar feature and e-mail. I could have sent the flight information to your phone. It's a little thing called tech-nol-o-gy." Veronica flopped down in the oversized stripped chair in the living room in mock exasperation. "I don't know how you managed without me all summer."

"Who said I managed?" teased the seasoned private eye, not really trying to make her feel guilty. It was good to have his only daughter home but he wasn't going to tell her how empty his life had been without her all summer.

Sitting across from her trying to keep a lid on his enthusiasm, Keith asked, "So how was the life of a big time F.B.I. agent? I bet you are going to miss it, now that you are back home and a mere mortal again."

_FLASHBACK _

Collapsing on her bed in the Quantico dorms and kicking off her uncomfortable high heels, Veronica glared at her cell phone: four text messages from Piz and one missed call. Wearily, she put the phone down on the whitewashed pressboard nightstand. These rooms were worse than the dorms at Hearst. The digital clock radio flashed 10:13 p.m. Ironic. That was the universal law enforcement code for officer down, in need of assistance.

She was in no mood for this conversation or what she knew would be the inevitable outcome but she'd been putting him off too long.

Reluctantly, Veronica sat up and hit redial.

After two rings, Piz's chipper voice crackled over her phone. "Hello, beautiful! Did you have a good day of saving the world from evil?'

Rolling her eyes, Veronica secretly despised Piz's need to trivialize her internship. He was working in the marketing department of an indie radio station. Where did that compare to the most elite law enforcement agency in the world? "I'm tired. It's been a long day." He didn't need to know that most of it was spent filing, fetching coffee and cleaning up the messes real agents made when they drank their coffee. She was years away from any actual crime fighting.

"I just wanted to hear your voice," Piz practically whined.

Although she felt bad for being annoyed when he was simply trying to be sweet, Veronica couldn't stop herself, "Well you heard it. I'm going to go to sleep now. Five a.m. comes way too early around here especially when you have to run the obstacle training course. "

Every agent was required to maintain top physical fitness, even the interns. Veronica had never been pushed so hard in her life. During the first week she could barely move after the grueling work outs, but now in week six she was in the best shape of her life. She was tougher and faster in every way. The muscles of her arms and legs had more detail. Even her core was stronger and flatter. She may be tiny but she was wiry and nimble, much hardier than her demure size conveyed.

"That's my girl. So this weekend . . . What time are you arriving?"

Shit. Veronica cringed. She had forgotten that she had promised Piz that she would get up to New York to see him. Pitchfork media was hosting some blow out concert at Giants Stadium in the Meadowlands and Piz was going to get them backstage, all-access passes.

She sighed audibly but before she could formulate her usual excuses – too tired . . . need to study . . . . national emergency - Piz cut her off. "Let me guess. You're not coming . . . again."

"Piz," she began wearily, "I'm . . ."

"Sorry," he finished for her. "You're always sorry. Of course you are. But this is important. I did so much work for this concert. I wanted you here."

"I know but. . . "

"Look I was gonna tell you when you got here. Talk to you about some sort of a plan but . . . Pitchfork offered me a job."

"A job? Good for you!" Veronica was genuinely excited for him. This was his dream job. Not many college students had the chance to break into big time broadcasting so young.

"It's here in the City. I'll be transferring to Hunter College for the fall semester," he informed her matter-of-factly.

"Transferring . . . ," Veronica let the idea roll off her tongue.

"I thought we could talk about the logistics when you got here. How we'd work out the whole long distance thing but that's a joke now, isn't it?" He chuckled bitterly.

"Piz,"

"Save it. We couldn't work out the long distance thing for one summer. How'd I ever think we'd manage for a whole year?" he sighed dejectedly.

"We were both just so busy," Veronica offered by way of explanation. "Maybe it will be easier when we are just trying to juggle school."

"Easier?" Piz snorted. "I don't think so. As soon as you get back home, you are going to be pulled in so many multiple directions and I bet I can guess who will be pulling most of your strings."

"Hey! That's not fair. You're my boyfriend."

"Am I?" Piz lamented. "Veronica, you are a great girl. Fantastic - even way more than I could have ever dared or dreamed to ask for. I'm a simple country boy from Beaverton who just wants to chill and listen to music. But you . . . you are Veronica Mars . . superhero. Always riding to the rescue of the downtrodden. An F.B.I. agent."

"It's who I am."

"I know but it's not who I am. It's not who I want to be."

There was a long silence on the phone. A lone tear teetered on the rim of her eye unsure whether to fall, waiting to be blinked back.

"Let's just end this now, Veronica, before it gets any worse and we have to fight over custody of Wallace."

"If that's what you want," Veronica whispered.

"Good-bye, Veronica," Piz hung up the phone leaving her alone in her dorm with a dead connection, wondering how it is that even when you wanted out of a particular relationship that wasn't working anyway it still hurts to be the one who got dumped.

_END FLASHBACK_


	2. Dropping In

**A/N:** Thank you to everyone who has been reading so far. I promise no Wallaces were hurt in the writing of this story & Chapter 1 was the last you have seen of Piz.

**Chapter 2: Look Who Dropped In**

_PRESENT DAY_

_INTERIOR MARS' APARTMENT _

Veronica spent the afternoon settling in at home. After doing laundry and putting away her things in their designated places in her room, for lunch she wolfed down the special four cheese lasagna that her father had made for dinner. She'd make it up to him with her meatloaf. It would be good to prepare a home cooked meal again. The cafeteria food at Quantico wasn't bad, but the trays and the lines and the institutional setting got old fast. A night relaxing with her father at the counter they used as a dinner table was just want Veronica wanted.

Although the sun was setting, Keith hadn't yet returned from work. He had called earlier telling her not to worry. His last appointment was delayed and he'd be home soon.

The oppressive heat that had ravaged all of the Southlands in late August was beginning to subside as the Santa Ana's were drifting down from the north to add a welcome breeze. It wasn't a cooling breeze so much as any movement of the air provide a slight respite from the sun's blazing rays.

Too antsy to sit and wait for her father to arrive, Veronica decided to go for a run before dinner. Changing into running shorts and a lycra jogging bra, which exposed her newly toned abs, she left her father a note, donned her i-pod, and headed out the door, leaving Backup longing after her but knowing that even with the setting sun it was too hot for the dog to run. He was better off in the air conditioned apartment. She'd take him for a walk after dark.

_EXTERIOR NEPTUNE BEACH_

Life was good. The sun was fading in the west and it felt amazing to run along the shore again; the rhythmic pounding of the crashing waves intertwined with the beat of the music. Running through the cool, shaded Virginia woods was okay, but she was a California girl and nothing beat running on the beach.

Reveling in the bliss of being home, Veronica didn't notice the surfer sitting on the edge of the low tide line stripping off his wet suit.

He had been focused on gingerly extracting his arm from the rubbery second skin. The remnants of yellow and green bruises were visible on his chest and ribs. The bruises on his legs and buttocks remained concealed by the wetsuit but still restricted his movements somewhat. Consumed by his own affairs, the surfer wasn't paying attention to his surroundings when Veronica literally tripped over him. Instinctively, he reached up to grab his intruder.

"Ugh," she blurted as he echoed her with a "Whoa!"

Before she did a face plant in the sand, the surfer's quick reflexes managed to twist her lithe body and cradle her into a position where she ended up plopping unceremoniously onto his lap.

"Nice of you to drop in," he quipped drolly.

Blushing, embarrassed at her own clumsiness, and shocked to see _him_ of all people Veronica could only mutter his name, "Logan," as she tried to clamber off his lap but his arms were too strong. She also wasn't really trying all that hard to free herself. There was something about the touch of his skin against hers and the way he smelled sent a jolt of excitement to her core.

"You need to watch where you're going, missy. Someone could get hurt."

Veronica glowered at him. It was an accident. She didn't need to be scolded like a child. "Let me up," she demanded pushing his restraining arm away and scrambling to her feet none too gracefully.

"So, what brings you back? East coast too fast paced for you?" he mocked. "I bet you just couldn't stay away from Pistachio."

Rising to her feet and brushing sand off her legs, Veronica corrected him, "We broke up."

Logan raised his eyebrows flirtatiously but bit back the snarky comment on the tip of his tongue. Maybe there was hope. He didn't want to blow it by pissing her off. Instead he focused on her bare midriff. Veronica was always fit but now he could see the muscles of her abdomen forming a six pack. He shifted his eyes but found that looking directly across at her skin tight running shorts that were accentuating her derrière wasn't helping. Being a guy, noticing that small expanse of exposed taut skin immediately flooded his mind with wanton thoughts of what those firm muscles could do astride him; 'down boy' he willed his awakening manhood. After so many months and such a spectacular blow out at the end of last semester, this beach was not the time or the place for the X-rated reunion he craved. Rather than drive himself crazy, Logan stood up to face her. Somehow his significant height advantage almost helped to overcome all the emotional advantages she had over him.

Not knowing what to say about the demise of her ill-conceived relationship Logan simply snorted derisively.

Veronica's brain was telling her to flee. . . to continue her run and to put as much distance between her and Logan as possible. This was very dangerous territory because she was rarely responsible enough to restrain her baser instincts in his presence., yet she couldn't take her eyes off the rippling muscles of his lean torso as he moved to stand up while the wet suit slid dangerously low under his hips, revealing a light trail of soft brown hair running from his belly button down, disappearing under the precarious covering - the proverbial Road to Paradise. She caught herself reminiscing about all the times she'd spent stroking her hands along that very spot in post coital bliss. The vee formed under his hips was always one of his sexiest features. 'Damn, he looked fine . . . the eternal bad boy of summer,' she mused. Piz was a handsome kid but a bit too soft for her tastes, especially compared to a rock hard and chiseled Logan Echolls sporting an end of summer tan. She willed herself to look him in the eyes.

When she looked up Veronica finally realized there was a bandage across the bridge of Logan's nose as well as the remnants of fading bruises all over his body. Tentatively she reached out to touch his arm. "Are you okay? What happened?" Her concern was immediately replaced by an accusation, "Don't tell me you were fighting again."

Logan shrugged her off angrily. He didn't need or want her pity. "I got a nose job. This is Southern California. Everybody gets a little work done, now and then." He wasn't about to tell Veronica that a week after he got to Venezuela for his surfing trip he was jumped and beaten within an inch of his life by a group of Russian thugs who warned him that if he ever laid a hand on Gory Sorkin again he was a dead man. What the Russians didn't count on was that between his father and the PCHers, Logan Echolls could take one heck of a beating and keep coming back for more.

He also wasn't going to tell her about his recent encounter. He was sworn to secrecy about that one. He would only discuss it with her if she mentioned first. Now though, he knew she hadn't been brought into the loop yet so he remained silent.

Although she knew he wasn't telling her the whole truth, Veronica uncharacteristically chose not to press the issue. She knew she'd find out eventually, whether Logan told her or not. Yet, the sight of him, injured, even though he was healing, broke her heart because this was why she had to get away from him. He was too self-destructive. It was too painful to watch and she couldn't bear the guilt of being the cause of his reckless behavior.

The former lovers exchanged pained, longing looks – both knowing they were holding back and denying their feelings but neither knew how to take those first steps back to each other. However, the magnetism remained. Between them, the temperature on the deserted beach started to rise even as the sun sunk steadily into the waves.

"Yeah well . . . ," Veronica fumbled for an excuse. If she didn't leave then, she might jump into Logan's arms and never leave. "I gotta go. You know . . . keep my heart rate up and all that." She placed two fingers on her carotid artery and pretended to look at the watch she wasn't wearing.

Logan gazed at her silently so she rambled on, starting to move her feet, jogging in place, "Gotta run." She smiled weakly at him before setting off.

When she was about 5-6 feet away Logan again found his voice, "Be careful, Mars. There are a lot of dangerous people out there."

She turned and glared at him. "I can protect myself," she insisted picking up her pace. All he could do was stand and watch her retreating backside which he so longed to grab.


	3. Getting Reacquainted

**A/N:** Veronica has returned home from her internship and had an awkward encounter with Logan on the beach near her home. She runs into more "friends" on her first day of sophomore year at Hearst.

**Chapter 3: Getting Reacquainted**

_EXTERIOR COURTYARD HEARST COLLEGE_

_THE FIRST DAY OF SOPHOMORE YEAR _

"Veronica!" a cheerful voice called to her across the quad. She looked up to see Mac and Max hand in hand approaching her from the student union.

A full smile brightened Veronica's face. She hasn't seen her friend all summer. A few phone calls, a couple of video chats on Skype and lots of e-mail were pale substitutes for the real thing. She opened her arms as Mac released her boyfriend's hand to envelope Veronica in a quick hug. "Hey stranger!" Mac squealed.

"Hi Veronica," Max nodded awkwardly at his girlfriend's BFF. He never quite knew whether Veronica cared that he had been in love with a prostitute before he started dating Mac.

"So what's your schedule look like this semester?" Mac asked bubbling with excitement for the first day of school.

Pulling a piece of paper out of her messenger bag, Veronica ran down her classes: "Spanish 3, Introduction to Fossils, Psych 2, Criminal Forensics and Introduction to Computer Programming."

"Computer Programming? You?" Mac didn't believe her ears.

Veronica shrugged. "The F.B.I. told me to polish up my computer skills. Otherwise I'm going to have to either join the military, master Farsi, or go to law school to get a job with them."

"Counselor Mars," teased Max shaking his head incredulously. "I just don't see you chasing ambulances or getting off criminals."

Weevil had joined them on his way across the quad with his tools. "I don't know. V's gotten off a few criminals as far as I know," he joked with a smile. The sexually charged alternate meaning to his otherwise innocuous crack was only lost on Max.

They all laughed, but Veronica playfully punched Weevil in the arm. "Very funny."

Holding up his tool box, Weevil headed off. "Duty calls. Have a nice first day of school, niños." The sarcasm dripping off his voice was thicker than honey.

"Who is that guy?" Max wondered why the campus maintenance man seemed to know Veronica. She was an odd one.

Making it clear that she wasn't going to elaborate Veronica simply responded, "An old friend." Even though he may have been a bit naive, Max was smart enough to let it drop.

"Well, I'm here to help with your computer class if you need me," Mac offered.

"I was counting on that," chirped Veronica. "What about you guys; what are you taking this semester?"

"I have Advanced Web design, Computer Assisted Graphic Design, Calculus III, Computers in Modern Society, Intermediate Programming, and Poetry of the Renaissance," Mac shared. In response to Veronica's raised eyebrow, Mac retorted "What? I like to read."

"I dropped out to focus on my business," said Max. "I just came to walk Mac to class and solicit some new customers."

With that, Mac pulled out her cell phone to check the time. "Oooh. I'm gonna be late." As she and Max headed off, Mac gestured with her hand to her ear. "Call me. I miss you. Let's get together soon. I actually really need to talk to you. There's this guy on my floor. He's got this act in a drag show. He's a really great singer. You have to come see him with me but he's getting these threatening letters and phone calls. I told him that you might be able to help him out."

"A drag queen, really? What were you two doing this summer?" Veronica asked, rolling her eyes. She didn't really want to know.

Mac dropped her voice. "Seriously, he's in trouble. You have to help him, ObiOne; you're his only hope." She did her best impersonation of Princess Leia.

Ever the capitalist, Max reminded her, "He'll probably pay . . . good money. It's a pretty popular show."

Shouting at a departing Mac over her shoulder, Veronica promised "Okay, okay. I'll call you and I'll see if I can help this cross-dressing friend of yours." With that Veronica set off for the parking lot.

Veronica had arrived at school later than she wanted that morning to find the main student parking lot filled to capacity. She had to park in the overflow lot far away from the main campus. At this point in the late afternoon that lot was almost deserted, which made her a bit uneasy. She opened her bag to reach for her taser when her cell phone rang. Looking down at the caller ID, her mouth fell open in shock: Duncan. She froze. Another ring jolted her back to reality.

"Hello," she began awkwardly.

"It's me," Duncan replied.

"Yeah I kinda figured that when it said Duncan on my caller ID. Where are you? I thought you destroyed this cell. What's going on? Are you alright?" The first few of the million questions she had came tumbling out.

"We have to talk," Duncan said simply.

"Okay, so talk. Believe me. You've got my full attention."

"No, in person."

"What? You're on the other side of the planet." Veronica recalled an unsigned post card she received a little over a year ago from Australia, right after Aaron Echolls had been shot to death in his hotel room. It had been a picture of a Koala bear holding a lily. In neat untraceable block print it said, "All's well that ends well," but nothing else. She understood the message.

During the brief conversation Veronica had been so taken aback by the call that she didn't notice the long white limousine that had stopped a few feet behind her. "Get in," Duncan instructed.

She started to back away slowly when Clarence Weidman emerged from the front passenger seat. "Don't make this any more difficult than it has to be," he warned as he opened the back door to the luxurious ride.

Warily she got in. Clarence slid in next to her and closed the door before the car drove off leaving Veronica's silver SUV marooned in the student lot.


	4. The Drawbridge is Lowered

#~*~*~*~*~*#

**Chapter 4: The Drawbridge is Lowered**

_INTERIOR MANSION _

"Hello Veronica," Duncan whispered casually emerging from the shadows of the dark hallway, with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his khakis. He was tanner, thinner and gaunter than he'd been when he left almost two years earlier. He also looked very tired. Being on the run had taken a decided toll on him physically and mentally.

Clarence Weidman had disappeared after letting Veronica into the house. The giant paintings of Lilly and Duncan still leant a bleak, ominous air to the elongated room. Although they were the faces of her friends, the paintings reminded Veronica of the villain, Vigo the Carpathian, who came to life in the movie _GhostBusters II_. Rather than comfort her, they only served to set her more on edge.

With a shaky breath, Veronica confessed, "I can't believe it's really you. What . . . what are you doing here? Where's Lily?" She threw her arms around Duncan who reluctantly hugged her back but with far less enthusiasm than she exhibited.

Duncan broke the hug quickly because the physical intimacy was making him uncomfortable. "Lily's with Astrid. We got married," Duncan volunteered. After taking a step back from Veronica to increase the distance between them, he held up his left hand to show her the gold band that now encased his fourth finger. "It was . . . easier."

Veronica didn't know what to say. Duncan married to the graduate student his mother hired to do his laundry; to the woman she hired to see him safely into Mexico. Yet now Duncan was here with his wife and his child. It was all surreal.

Understanding that she needed time to process, Duncan continued. "I heard about what happened . . . all of it. I told my father he had to make this right. You could have destroyed a lot of people with the information on that hard drive but you didn't. You deserve something for that . . . after all you've been through." He gave her another brief, chaste hug but again let go before she did.

By now the pair were walking toward the end of the hallway toward the light in the direction from where Duncan had come. They entered Jake Kane's study to find him behind his desk. He had shaved since Veronica's last visit to the mansion and looked far less maniacal. Gory Sorkin was seated on the tufted leather couch next to a dangerous looking man Veronica assumed was his father and head of the Russian mob. Roger Hearst, the founder's son, and Mel Stoltz, the arrogant, cigar smoking Hearst alumni who almost singlehandedly got the Greek system reinstated, occupied arm chairs flanking the front of Jake's desk. Clarence Weidman was hovering behind the couch with his suit jacket unbuttoned making sure everyone knew he was armed.

The older man inventoried the little blonde who felt particularly small in this large, masculine room. "This is the heprxa [_Russian word for slut_] that caused all the commotion."

Veronica remembered a few Russian words from her last entanglement with the Russian mob when she inadvertently located a guy in the witness protection program because she naively thought she was reuniting a mail order bride with her lost love. Veronica didn't remember exactly what this particular word meant but she knew it must be an insult. "I'm no heprxa. Your son is voyeur and a coward," she retorted defiantly as she fearlessly took a few steps toward her opponent who looked mildly impressed that she wasn't backing off.

"Everybody settle down," Clarence Weidman commanded.

"Hello, Veronica," opened Jake, trying to get this meeting back to a more civilized level. "Please. Have a seat." He gestured toward the love seat where Duncan had settled himself across from the Sorkins.

Carefully measuring his guests with his eyes, as only a clever billionaire CEO can, Jake Kane began, "We have a mutual problem."

Veronica smiled smugly. Although she had been out of town she knew that Nish had put that list of all male members of The Castle to good use and had filed a discrimination suit against The Castle, Hearst College, the Hearst family and the Kanes in federal court in Los Angeles. Her lawyers were threatening to start taking depositions of all the living members of the heretofore secret society as well as the relatives of some of the dead ones.

"We also have a proposed solution," offered Roger Hearst, ever the salesman and diplomat

"Great. So what am I doing here, then? You boys seem to have it all figured out." Veronica queried sarcastically, rising from the couch to leave.

Duncan grabbed her arm and pulled her back down. "You're the key to the solution," he explained.

"Well then you boys have an even bigger problem, because I have no interest in helping any of you do anything, especially him." Veronica snarled pointing and glaring at Gory. She would never forgive him for distributing that tape of her and Piz.

Jake Kane exhaled audibly. "Veronica, Kane Enterprises has done our very best to erase that footage from the entire Internet. Our programmers developed a special virus which we released into the Hearst computer system and a few other select places, including Facebook, YouTube, and through various programs sold at HearstMart. The virus finds that video file and erases it without harming any other files. It also duplicates itself and attaches itself to every e-mail sent by every Hearst user. If it finds the video on the recipient's computer the virus deletes the video then attaches itself to that person's outgoing mail, and so on and so on. It's truly viral. We're fairly confident that all copies of that video are gone."

Veronica was both awed and scared that one corporation had so much power to get into so many people's operating systems. She was relieved that the video was disappearing, but didn't like the idea that Kane Enterprises and HearstMart now had a Trojan Horse into every student's system. She made a mental note to tell Mac and Max about this.

"Well thanks for that, but I can hold my head up high. I wasn't the one doing anything wrong. You and your secret society. . . " she waved her hand in the air for emphasis, " . . . blackmailing people. How much dirt do you really have on people? It's disgusting."

"You should know," snapped Mel Stoltz. "You viewed the files. You probably copied them." He stabbed his unlit cigar in her direction to punctuate his accusation.

Veronica turned to glare at the pompous jerk who was addressing her. "Just be happy I didn't release them to _Hardcopy_, _20/20_ and _60 Minutes_."

"We are all very happy about that, Ms. Mars," soothed Roger Hearst. "This lawsuit is another matter however. It has to be stopped."

"Can't help you there," Veronica responded. "I'm not involved in the suit."

"Oh but you are," interjected Clarence. "We know you gave a list of Castle members to the Lilith House. There's no other way Nish Sweeney could have gotten it."

"Whatever," sighed Veronica trying to feign boredom with this discussion. "I'm not saying I gave her the list but if I did, there's nothing I can do about it now. It's out of my hands and in the hands of the lawyers." As she looked around the room, her steely gaze settled on the elder Sorkin. "I'm sure you all have Lawyers. What do you need me for?"

"This is a waste of time," growled Gory. "I told you she wouldn't go for it."

"For the record, having seen your hard drive, I also have no reason to believe that you destroyed all the copies of the tape with me and Piz. I know how much you like to hold things over people's heads, Jake," Veronica wasn't even going to pretend she had any respect left for her ex-boyfriend's father, no matter how much money he had.

Duncan was still quick to defend Veronica. "She hasn't even heard your offer yet."

Veronica's eye's widened when Duncan spoke. "What offer?" she asked cautiously, not sure she wanted to know.

"In exchange for you getting Nish and her lawyers to back off, we are prepared to offer you both membership in The Castle and to orchestrate a recall election which should assure that your father wins a new term as sheriff," Jake outlined the proposal for her.

"We already fixed the little matter of your father degaussing the security footage which captured your ill-conceived B&E," Clarence Weidman reminded her. "He won't be facing charges."

Veronica snorted. "I don't want to be a member of your little secret boy's club."

"Your friend Wallace does," Gory countered.

She looked back to Jake who nodded and assured her, "Yes, Mr. Fennel can be recalled."

"It won't matter. Nish isn't going to back down," Veronica predicted.

"Yes she will," scoffed the trustee. "Ms. Femma-Nazi doesn't so much want to destroy The Castle as to be a part of it."

"You're kidding," sneered Veronica. They clearly didn't know Nish at all. She would never join something like The Castle.

"If you join, she will," started Jake. "Besides you are exactly the kind of student who belongs in The Castle." Veronica couldn't believe her ears. Her mouth must have fallen open in shock as her nemesis continued, "I know we've had our differences over the years." There wasn't a touch of sarcasm as he spoke the understatement of the decade. "But, you've always been good scholar, a natural leader, somebody who is going places. Let us help you."

Veronica's eyes narrowed with her ever growing skepticism.

"You should think about it, Veronica. Louis Freeh's son is a member. There are great connections to be made inside a group like The Castle. You don't always have to do everything the hard way, like an outsider," Duncan encouraged her to think about the offer.

Veronica remained skeptical. It hurt to be reminded that she would always be an outsider, that she wasn't an 09er. "I don't remember his name on the list. It's not like I would have missed it."

"He uses his mother's maiden name for security reasons," explained Clarence Weidman.

"You expect me to believe that the former head of the F.B.I. let his son join a group that has Russian mobsters as members?" Veronica was not an easy sell.

"Mr. Sorkin is not a member of the Castle," declared Roger. "He's only here to keep his son in line."

"This still doesn't resolve everything," Veronica mused.

Understanding her reluctance, Duncan revealed their ace in the hole, "If you agree to this, the Sorkins and their associates promise to leave Logan alone. No more ambushes like this summer." When Veronica's eyes betrayed her shock, Duncan realized his mistake. She hadn't known that Logan was attacked in Venezuela. At least now she knew where the bruises came from and why he'd had a "nose job".

Quick to recover, Veronica put another fly in the ointment, "Even if you can keep him away from Logan," she gestured toward Gory, "what makes you think you can keep Logan away from him?"

Taking her hand in his, Duncan looked deeply into Veronica's eyes, his own tinged with a touch of sadness, "Logan loves you. And he'll do _anything_ to keep you safe." Veronica couldn't believe what she was hearing. "We both will," he assured her.

Momentarily speechless, she back pedaled even as her mind was racing. "I have to think about this."


	5. Poison Pen Letters

**Chapter 5: Poison Pen Letters**

_INTERIOR MAC's DORM ROOM_

Seated at Mac's desk Veronica looked across the room at a tall lanky guy sitting on Parker's pink bed. He was thin with high cheek bones and delicate hands. His sunken eyes looked sad and scared as he nervously reached out to hand Veronica three pieces of paper. On each, using letters cut out from various magazines in a very old school manner, someone had written threats:

Stop what you are doing before someone gets hurt.

Your unnatural acts will incur God's wrath

God will defile you for your sins.

Scanning them Veronica probed more. "When did you get the first one of these?"

"At the end of last month," the man replied. "Shortly after I got the job of playing Demi Moore at the Castle."

Veronica nearly choked on the sip of water she had just taken from her Poland Spring bottle.

Not understanding her friend's reaction, Mac explained, "You know the lounge on Sepulveda, around the block from the Camelot Motel . .. . King Arthur's Castle – Castle, kings and queens, drag Queens. Get it?"

Recovering quickly, Veronica re-assured everyone. "No, I get it. The water just went down the wrong pipe. I'm fine."

"Max and I went there before school started. They have a stand-up comedy act and some songs. It's kind of like that place that Robin William's character owned in that movie, _The Birdcage_. Anyway it was so fun but as we were leaving we saw Bruce here in the alleyway and he was freaking out." Mac elaborated. "When we walked toward him I kind of recognized him from last year. That's when he showed me the second note."

Bruce continued, "The third one came this past weekend and that's when I really got scared. The others turned up at the Castle but this one was slid under my dorm room door. I found it after my family left."

"Do you still have the envelopes?" Veronica inquired. Her mind was already searching for angles.

Regretfully Bruce shook his head. "No. I threw them out. I wasn't thinking but they weren't mailed. There were no stamps or postmarks. I remember that."

"Okay," Veronica began, "that tells us that the notes were most likely hand delivered. We can use that."

A short silence hung over the room as Veronica and Mac worked through this puzzle.

Holding out his cell phone Bruce offered, "I do have some text message and one voice message. I think it's from the same guy."

Mac and Veronica both brightened at that revelation. Mac grabbed the phone from Bruce. Technology was her thing. "Come to mamma," she extolled flipping open her lap top to trace the cell number. After a few key stokes and a brief wait she looked up dejectedly. "Dead end. The number belongs to a pre-paid cell phone."

Veronica wasn't ready to give up. "Maybe we can figure out where it was purchased and then track down who bought it."

All of them nodded at the wisdom of her suggestion.

"Plus, since the Dean's murder, the school has put up more surveillance cameras. I'll call Weevil. Maybe he can get us access to the tapes from the other day. If somebody who doesn't belong was sneaking into the dorm, we should be able to identify them."


	6. Recruiting the Knights

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**Chapter 6: Recruiting the Knights **

INTERIOR HEARST LIBRARY

Veronica looked up from the information desk when Nish walked in. "I'm so glad you could meet me. We have to talk."

"I wanted to talk to you too," Nish replied.

Veronica looked at her expectantly. "You go first."

"The lawyers want to know if you want them to add you to the suit," Nish explained. "I probably should have asked you earlier since, well, since you made it all possible."

"That's okay. I don't want to join the suit," Veronica hesitated. "Actually, I want you to drop it."

"Are you freakin' kidding me?" Nish was appalled that Veronica could betray her and their cause.

"Shhhhh," Veronica cautioned in library mode. "Hear me out."

Nish glared at her rival but sighed, "Go ahead."

"Come sit over here with me." Veronica directed them to a small table in a corner where they wouldn't be overheard by anyone else in the library. "They came to me, Jake Kane and a few others."

Now she had Nish's full attention. Her eyes had widened to practically double in size with the whites clearly visible against her dark skin. "Their lawyers are still claiming that Castle doesn't even exist."

"They want you to drop the suit and in exchange they will make you a member," Veronica repeated the offer that had been extended to her.

Nish protested indignantly, "What makes them think I want to be associated with them?"

"That's what I said," Veronica tried to reassure Nish this that she wasn't selling her out, "but the more I thought about it, I wondered 'Why do we have to do everything the hard way?'"

"I earned everything I have," asserted Nish. Having grown up in Watts, Nish Sweeney was proud of the fact that she clawed her way out of the ghetto and managed to get into a great school like Hearst. Sure, she practically had to beg, borrow and steal to pay her tuition and she was going to be in debt for the rest of her life buried under a ton of student loans but she was confident she could parlay her education into a good job and a better life for her and her mother.

"I'm not saying you didn't. I am saying what if there's an easier way? You said it yourself – it's a bunch of rich powerful men, helping other men get rich and powerful," Veronica elaborated. When Nish didn't immediately say anything, Veronica continued. "You don't know me, but a few years ago I got it into my head that I had to do everything myself – that asking for help from anybody was a sign of weakness."

"So what changed?" Nish softened. "Why now?"

"I learned I was wrong. I was wrong about the Theta Betas and Karen. I was wrong about trying to take the Castle down by myself. A lot of people got hurt because of my arrogance – my dad, my ex - actually both of them - my friend, Wallace."

"Those vapid sorority girls were growing pot, illegally," Nish reminded Veronica.

Veronica countered, "But their hearts were in the right place, they were trying to help their dying friend,"

"Whatever." Nish wasn't convinced. "What does any of this have to do with the Castle?"

"They're offering us membership in their little boys club – a ticket to the fast lane: the money, the connections, and the power. We can stop fighting the system and use it to our advantage," Veronica reasoned. She hadn't really made up her mind about what she wanted to do regarding the Castle but she felt that she owed it to Nish to inform her of the offer.

"So it's a bribe," Nish scoffed. "They are trying to buy us off by letting us join. How do we know they won't just kick us out after we drop the suit? And why us? What about all the other deserving women on campus?"

Veronica hadn't really thought about that. She knew that part of Nish's issue was about equality but she hadn't considered that there were other women who could be helped if they got the Castle to tear down their all male walls. "Well," she began puzzling through this out loud, "They only mentioned you and me by name, and oh, they will reinstate my friend, Wallace, but they didn't say they wouldn't consider other women."

"I'm listening," Nish confirmed.

"What if -" Veronica continued thinking out loud, "what if we make a list of all the qualified women on campus and we make it a condition that they all be accepted?"

Nish was willing to consider this. "I'm not agreeing to anything but I'll send you an e-mail with some names. They are also going to have to go public. I'm not doing anything in the shadows."


	7. Chinks in the Armour

**A/N: ** This is a nice long chapter. You should be happy. My apologizes to those of you who were looking forward to a great mystery. That part is a bit lame.

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**Chapter 7: Chinks in the Armor **

_KING ARTHUR'S CASTLE NIGHTCLUB _

Veronica walked up and down Sepulveda Blvd. taking pictures and looking for surveillance cameras. There were two banks on the street but it could be difficult to get the film from them; banks would happily give the footage to law enforcement and she'd been able to you use her dad's contacts to get the video from an ATM last year when she was chasing the Hearst rapist but Veronica didn't want to tap that source unless she had no other choices. She was in luck. There was a video camera on the front door of the Korean deli two doors down from the club. After she batted her eyes at the teenaged kid behind the counter, he willing gave her the tape but the volume of pedestrian traffic near the deli didn't necessarily correspond to patrons of the nightclub.

The Castle itself only had cameras pointed at the cash registers. There were none on the entrance, backstage or in the alley behind the building. Veronica shook her head. Who taught these people about security?

As promised Bruce, the client, met her at the manager's office. "Hi. Thanks for coming. This is Arthur Bouvier, owner of King Arthur's Castle."

A short, hairy, fat guy stuck out his stubby hand, "How ya doin'?" He smelled like stale cheap cigars.

Veronica forced her lips into a tight, closed mouth smile and took the proffered hand, "Veronica."

Artie appraised the little blonde. He was having a hard time believing this tiny girl was a private detective. "Bruce here tells me you're a P.I. and you're helping him with some stalker."

Flicking open her leather ID, Veronica flashed Artie her credentials. "I am a licensed private detective." The jaded bar owner's eyes lit up in shock. He thought he had seen everything in this business but this pint sized pixie packed a few surprises. Bruce was impressed too; he thought this was just something Veronica did on the side.

"So what do you need from me?" Artie asked.

"I need to see all your camera footage from the last month when Bruce was working," Veronica explained.

Artie hesitated. "All of it? How do I know you're not trying to rob me and this is some hi-tech way of casing the joint?"

Veronica was already exasperated with this character.

"She's here to help me, Artie, not hurt you," Bruce vouched for Veronica. "I'm really scared. You have to let her find whoever's doing this to me."

"I don't know." The club owner was not sure that letting anybody from law enforcement see his tapes was a good idea. While he ran a clean club, everybody knew in the nightclub business there were drugs and some other goings on. He was worried that if she saw something she didn't like, she'd report him. Her badge said her name was Mars so he wondered if she was any relation to the guy who used to be sheriff. The last thing he needed was a bunch of cops hanging around. It was bad for business.

"Please, Artie," Bruce begged. "We don't care about anything else."

"All we want to do is see if there were any suspicious people hanging around when Bruce got these notes," Veronica confirmed.

"Fine," Artie agreed, hoping to get them to leave sooner. He had a lot to do before the club opened for the evening.

Veronica and Bruce squeezed into sharing a single office chair to review the footage because there wasn't room for two chairs in the cramped office. Although the cameras were supposed to be pointed at the cash registers behind the bars, many of the angles had been moved and all had wider than expected views. After about two hours of reviewing video at high speed they finally found what they were looking for. A woman appeared in the corner of a few frames from different camera angles. Although they could tell it was a woman with shoulder length brown hair, she was wearing a hoodie and dark sunglasses which successfully covered her face. Inserting a flash drive into the system, Veronica saved all of the frames which showed the women. There appeared to be an envelope in her hands in the frames where she was coming in but not when she was leaving. "Gotcha," the P.I. enthused triumphantly.

"But we can't see her face," Bruce wailed.

"Ah young Jedi, maybe not yet, but you have no idea how good Mac is with video manipulation," Veronica comforted her client, crossing her fingers that Mac could actually do what she was promising.

He nodded solemnly. "I hope so."

Grabbing her messenger bag Veronica said, "C'mon. Let's go see if Mac found anything on the security tapes Weevil got her from your dorm."

_INTERIOR MAC's DORM ROOM_

_THE NEXT DAY _

As Veronica and Bruce entered Mac's room, Bond handed Q the flash drive. "This is what we got at the Castle. Did you find anything?"

"Actually, yeah. There's this woman walking in the hall about an hour before Bruce said he got the last note," Mac shared her findings with Veronica and her client. "She looks too old to be a student."

"Did she have brown hair?" Veronica inquired.

"Yeah," Mac confirmed. "How'd you know?"

"The woman on the tape at the Castle also had brown hair but we couldn't see her face," Bruce piped in.

As Mac was cueing up side-by-side views of the two tapes for better comparison, Veronica changed the subject. "Did you have any luck with the cell phone trace?"

"It was drop shipped to some podunk place called Paradise Mill, Oklahoma," Mac offered.

"Do you know anybody from there?" Veronica asked Bruce.

"Yeah, I grew up there." Bruce couldn't believe it was someone from back home. He thought he knew everyone. Plus, if somebody from Paradise Hill was here, he would have recognized them; the town just wasn't that big.

"It's a tiny place, with a population of less than 1,000," Mac regaled them with the census data she had researched earlier.

Bruce corrected her, "I doubt it that's big." Both women looked at him. The pieces were falling into place. "You think it's somebody I know from home?"

Veronica confirmed his suspicion, "It makes sense."

Mac spun her laptop around to show Bruce the side by side comparison of a still from each of the two videos. "Does she look familiar?"

Bruce's hand flew up to cover his mouth, "Oh my God! That's my aunt, Mary Faith."

"Your aunt?" Mac repeated somewhat astonished. "That's twisted."

"Do you have any idea why she'd do this to you?" Veronica probed.

Bruce studied his hands. "She's very religious – Church every Sunday, Bible study every night. She probably doesn't approve of my drag act."

"Do you think she'd actually hurt you?" Veronica pressed her embarrassed client. If there was a genuine danger she was going to have call Vinnie Van Lowe in on the matter. Scum bag or not, he was currently the Sherriff, at least for a little while longer.

Swallowing Bruce thought for a moment. "No, not really. She's probably more concerned that I'm going to burn in hell for fornicating with a man."

Mac was bewildered. "I thought you were straight. Weren't you dating Millie Dougherty last semester?"

"Yeah," Bruce replied. "From my Aunt's perspective that may be worse; Mille's Catholic." At least he managed a small, tight smile at his own bad joke.

Veronica rolled her eyes. Prejudice and intolerance never made sense to her. "Well if you don't think you are in danger from your aunt, I guess there's nothing more we can do. Mystery solved. What are you going to do next?"

"Get my father to talk to her I guess," Bruce answered slowly, weighing his options and trying to process the inescapable conclusion that his aunt was threatening him. "If that doesn't work, I suppose I'll go see Reverend Simmons when I go home for break."

"You should probably at least tell campus security and see if you can have her barred from Hearst," Veronica suggested as Bruce got up to leave.

"That's probably a good idea," Bruce agreed. "Thanks again. Let me know if I owe you any more money."

"I'll send you a bill," Veronica assured him.

When the door shut behind Bruce, Mac powered down her laptop and closed it. "Another mystery solved, Bond. Good job!" She held her hand out to Veronica for a high five.

"Couldn't have done it without you, Q." Veronica slapped her friend's open palm.

"So," Mac began. "I haven't seen much of you this semester. Piz keeping you busy?"

The reality was that they were two weeks into the new school year. Mac had been holed up at Max's apartment off campus where Veronica was reluctant to intrude. Between school, her dad's busier than ever business now that he was the only private detective in town and trying to decide what to do about the Castle, Veronica hadn't had much time for socializing.

"You've seen Piz?" Veronica asked, returning her focus to the conversation. Where could Mac have seen Piz?

"Come to think of it, I haven't. Where've you got him stashed?" joked Mac.

"New York," Veronica replied. "He transferred to some school in the City so he could continue to work for Pitchfork."

"Wow," Mac enthused, "A job. So, how's the long distance thing going?"

"It's not," Veronica conceded, looking at the floor not wanting to meet her friend's eyes. "Actually, we broke up in August."

Mac was concerned. "Why am I just hearing about this now?"

"I dunno," Veronica shrugged. "I guess I just didn't want to talk about it."

"So if you weren't with Piz all this time, where have you been, girlfriend?" Mac asked with a gleam in her eye. Smiling, she kidded, "Did you and Logan get back together?"

"No," Veronica insisted just a bit too quickly. "Things, . . . well let's just say I've had a lot on my plate."

"Veronica, how long have you known me?" Mac demanded.

"Since eleventh grade," Veronica responded, not knowing where this was going.

"And while I'm no you, I do have skills. You can't possibly think that I'm going to let you get away with such a vague answer, so spill," Mac commanded.

"Can we please just not talk about Logan?" Veronica begged.

"Sure," Mac replied giving Veronica short-lived hope that died as Mac finished her sentence. "When pigs fly and Dick Casablancas takes a vow of celibacy."

Veronica had to laugh but as Mac stared at her expectantly, she knew this topic of conversation wasn't closed. "Logan and I are not back together."

"But you want to be?" Mac asked hopefully. Since she worked with him on the ass rating website, Mac had come to realize that there was more to Logan Echolls than being a spoiled, entitled jackass even though he sometimes goes out of his way to cultivate that perception of himself.

Based on the way Logan had treated Veronica in high school Mac had never truly understood what they saw in each other or how deep their connection was but it was undeniable to anybody who saw them interact. Even when Mac told Veronica that Logan was the one who spread the rumors about Veronica's score on the so-called purity test in high school that information didn't faze the blonde. Instead she replied, "I assumed as much," but never spoke of it again. Both girls knew Veronica didn't even take the test.

Once when Mac asked Wallace to explain the whole Logan / Veronica dynamic all he said was something about banter, practical jokes, broken headlights and bongs being some sort of bizarre mating ritual practiced by adrenaline junkies from another planet. The explanation didn't make much sense to Mac.

Still Mac was fully aware that Veronica with Logan was so much better than either of them apart. She would also be forever grateful to them both for all the strength they gave her on grad night and during its aftermath.

Although Veronica didn't know exactly what was running through Mac's mind, you didn't have to be a private detective to recognize a friend's concern. She knew Mac had become more like her as their friendship had grown. Once Cindy MacKenzie resolved to know the truth, like her mentor, Veronica, she wouldn't stop until she achieved her objective.

Veronica resigned herself to filling her in because she couldn't think of a way to get out of it not because she really wanted to share. Then again, if she couldn't tell Mac, who could she tell? However, she didn't know where to begin. Just then there was a knock at the door. Veronica was thrilled to have someone save her from having to have this conversation. "Come in!" she yelled at the same time Mac barked "Go away!"

The door opened and Wallace popped his head in, "What are two of my favorite ladies doing sittin' in here rather than enjoying this fine fall afternoon?"

"Girl stuff," Mac answered figuring that would make him disappear.

Raising his hands in the air in mock surrender before he even came fully into the room, "I'm out," Wallace said maneuvering backwards out of the room.

Sighing, Veronica drew him back in. "Get in here. This concerns you too."

Both Wallace and Mac looked confused. "Girl stuff does not concern me," Wallace insisted. "I'm not gonna braid your hair or paint your toes." Having seen the look on Veronica's face knowing there was no arguing with her when she was in that mood, Wallace obediently stepped inside, despite his protests.

"Close the door," Veronica instructed as she fished around in her messenger bag and pulled out an electronic gadget with antennas and an LED display screen with blinking lights. Turning it on, she got up from Mac's bed and began to scan the room.

"What are you doing, Superfly?" Wallace wondered.

"I think she's scanning the room for bugs," Mac correctly postulated.

"Exactly Q," Veronica confirmed.

"They just exterminated over the summer," offered Wallace.

Mac looked at him like he was an idiot. How long had he been friends with Veronica? "Not the creepy crawly kind, electronic bugs – listening devices and hidden cameras."

"Oh," understanding finally dawned on Wallace. Despite the video tape last semester and everything else he'd been through with Veronica, he still didn't have a suspicious mind.

Finding nothing, Veronica turned off the device and sat back down.

Mac picked it up, turning it over slowly in her hands, with a sense of awe on her face. "This is pretty high tech for Radio Shack. You been holding out on me?"

"Souvenir from the summer," Veronica bragged. She was glad that Mac was impressed with her new toy. "The interns were allowed to shop at the Company store."

"Cool." Mac was imagining the possibilities.

"So what 'girl talk' do I have to be here for that requires you to perform a high tech security sweep?" Wallace wanted to get back to the business at hand.

"Do you remember the Castle?" Veronica began, as though any of them had forgot the ordeal of the end of last semester.

Both nodded but didn't say anything silently urging her to continue.

"They want me to get Nish to drop the law suit."

"Yeah, like that's ever gonna happen," Mac dismissed the suggestion outright.

"If I do, she and I can become members, you too Wallace."

Wallace frowned. He hated the Castle for taping Veronica. "Who said I still want to join?"

"It's a very powerful group. They could take you places," Veronica reminded him. "But there's more."

"Like what?" Mac was almost afraid to know.

"Well, they wiped out the video . . ."

Flipping open her laptop, Mac re-booted her system. "No they didn't. My copy is still here . . ." She clicked on the file name but nothing came up. She hit a few more keys and furrowed her brow. "Where'd it go?"

Veronica continued, "They wrote some sort of virus which deleted that file and then sent itself to all of your contacts through e-mail searching for more copies."

Now Mac was seeing red. "There's a virus on my computer and you are just telling me this now?" She was frantically running AntiMalWare to find this virus and searching her cache buffer, fat allocation table and mirror backup for any trace of the video or the virus.

"They assured me that it only attacks that video of me," Veronica tried to downplay the significance of the software.

Mac's voice was a few octaves higher than normal. "They assured you?! They assured you?! Seriously Veronica, have you forgotten who _they_ are?"

"No," Veronica conceded, "But I trust Duncan."

"So?" Mac waited for more.

"What does Duncan have to do with this?" Wallace wanted to know. From Wallace's perspective, Duncan wasn't worthy of Veronica's trust or loyalty. For the first year Wallace knew her, Duncan treated Veronica like something you'd wipe off the bottom of your shoe or he just ignored her. Then he got another girl pregnant but dumped her and then he fled the country and was wanted for kidnapping. No, Wallace didn't see the knight in shining armor thing at all.

"Duncan is back. He's the one who came to me with this," Veronica divulged to her shocked companions. "And there's more."

Shaking her head in disbelief, Mac encouraged Veronica to continue, "What more?"

"If Nish drops the suit, they'll set up a recall election for my dad and the Sorkins will leave Logan alone." Veronica laid out the whole plan.

"Damn, girl," Wallace exclaimed. "How'r you supposed to turn down that?"

"Nish'll never go for it," Mac countered.

"Actually," Veronica confessed, "She's thinking about it."


	8. The Price of War and Peace

**A/N: **Based on the lack of feedback for chapters 6 & 7 I'm not sure if people are still reading but I'm going to continue posting. One of my pet peeves is incomplete FF that just stops in the middle of the story so good, bad, or indifferent, I will finish this.

**#*~*~*~*~*~*~*#**

**Chapter 8 The Costs of War . . . and Peace**

_INTERIOR MARS INVESTIGATIONS_

Veronica finished the filing that her dad had allowed to pile up in the past few weeks. She paid the bills and dropped a stack of phone messages on Keith's desk. Shaking her head, she expelled a breath of air in frustration, blowing a few strands of errant hair out of her face. After pouring herself a cup of coffee from the pot in the little kitchenette, Veronica flopped down in her office chair and began scanning her campus e-mail:

Bruce said thanks again; he'd attached four tickets to his next performance and some drink coupons to show his appreciation

There was going to be a campus wide fire drill and emergency evacuation practice on campus tomorrow night; Veronica would be sure to avoid campus for that

Several ads for Viagra and other male enhancement products which she deleted immediately not understanding why this junk still got through her spam filter

A reminder from a professor about an upcoming quiz

A notice that she'd won the Nigerian lottery; someday in her spare time she'd have to investigate the creator of this scam

Her credit card payment was due in 5 days

Extra tutoring would be available in the student center before midterms

And there was the item she was looking for: Nish's e-mail; Veronica clicked on the paperclip attachment and was dismayed to find a list of over 100 names. Some of these people had already graduated. Veronica massaged her face. This was overkill. The offer was for the two of them to join – her and Nish. Even though it had been her suggestion to convince the Castel to admit other women, Veronica had assumed Nish would give her a list of twenty or twenty-five names, not over one hundred. There was no way they were going to go for this. Scrolling through her cell phone, Veronica found the number she was looking for and hit send.

Without so much as a pleasant hello, the voice on the other end immediately asked "Did you get the list?"

"I did, but we're going to have to pare it down," Veronica suggested without pre-amble.

"Are you kidding?" Nish scoffed. "Those men have been running with impunity. This is our chance to even the score."

Sighing, Veronica offered an olive branch. "Let's just talk about it. Can you meet me at my father's office?"

"I don't know where that is. Come to campus. I'll meet you in the food court," Nish countered.

"We can't talk about this in the middle of the food court," Veronica reasoned. "Just come to the office – Mars Investigations - 3339 Neptune Blvd. It's in the middle of the block. You can't miss it. Park out front."

"Fine," Nish reluctantly agreed. "I'll be there in about an hour."

As Veronica hung up the phone, her dad and Cliff McCormack walked in. "Hi honey. I didn't expect to see you this afternoon."

"Me either, Dad," she greeted him brightly. "I thought you were testifying in some messy divorce."

"He was," Cliff interjected "but as soon as the other side saw that money shot, the husband agreed to pay."

"I'll never understand cheaters," Veronica sighed. "So, you boys celebrating?"

"You betcha!" exclaimed Cliff pulling a bottle of gin out of his brief case and swinging it gently by the neck in front of Veronica's face. "You wanna join us?"

"She's not old enough," barked Keith.

"Really? Geeze, I thought you were what, 36, by now, at least," teased the goofy lawyer. Cliff was far more perceptive than then his adopted persona belied. Veronica stuck her tongue out as a childish reminder to Cliff that she was still young at heart. He chuckled in response.

Keith had grabbed and ice cube tray, two glasses and a bottle of tonic water out of the kitchen. "You're still welcome to talk with us, honey," her father offered walking into his office with the supplies.

Picking up her cup of coffee, Veronica followed them into her dad's inner sanctum. The two men settled into an easy conversation about open cases they were working together, with Veronica supplying pertinent updates if it was something she'd been handling for her dad but her mind wasn't really on this conversation. She was still wrestling with the idea of joining the Castle. Part of her felt like it was selling out but part of her thought it was a way to atone for all her past wrongs and to keep Logan safe, despite himself. Protecting him was worth almost any sacrifice.

Sensing that his daughter wasn't all there, Keith pried gently. "Spill it, oh daughter of mine. Your body may be here but your mind is somewhere else."

Not really having anybody else to share this with Veronica looked solemnly from her Dad to Cliff and back again.

"This may be my cue to leave," Cliff announced starting to rise from his chair.

"No, stay. I'd like your opinion too." Veronica fished a crumpled dollar out of her pants pocket and handed it to the lawyer.

Cliff rolled his eyes and looked to Keith for guidance or permission to escape. "Oh, this ought to be good if you're making sure the attorney client privilege applies by paying me, paltry consideration though it is."

"What's the matter, honey?" Keith asked concern evident in his voice and body language. "Vinnie's not gonna coming barging in here with an arrest warrant for you, is he?"

"No and nothing's wrong," she assured her father. "It's just, well how far would you go to protect somebody you lo. . . cared about and to fix something you ruined?"

"You know I'd go pretty far, honey," Keith guaranteed.

Smiling Veronica remembered, "You already proved you'd walk through fire for me, Dad."

"Damn, straight I would."

A bit embarrassed by this father daughter bonding, Cliff cut to the chase. "So what's your question?"

"Well, I've been . . . . I've been offered this chance . . . . and it seems almost too good to be true but the connections would be fantastic . . . and people would be safe and . . . .and I'd get to make up for something bad . . ." she looked at father. She was still so filled with guilt about the lost election. "But I feel like I'd have to sell my soul to the Devil."

"Oh, is that all?" Cliff tried to lighten the somber turn this conversation was taking.

"Don't make fun," Veronica pleaded.

"Sweetie, I'm a lawyer and public defender. Some say I don't have a soul and if I ever did, I sold it a long time ago."

Veronica chuckled at Cliff's self-deprecating sense of humor.

Still serious Keith encouraged Veronica to make her own decision. "Veronica you have a good head on your shoulders - most of the time. But you have to be true to yourself. It's nice that your sacrifice may help someone else but if you lose yourself the price is too high."

Before she could respond, the bell on the outer office door jingled to let them know someone had walked in. "That'll be my 4:00 o'clock." Veronica stepped out of her dad's office to meet with Nish.


	9. Soul Searching

**A/N:** Thank you for your continued encouragement.

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**Chapter 9 Soul Searching **

_INTERIOR MARS APARTMENT_

As Veronica finished clearing the plates from the dinner she'd enjoyed with her father, he invaded her thoughts. "Did you give any more thought to selling your soul?"

"Dad," Veronica intoned exasperatedly. "You know I'm not actually going to sell my soul. Daniel Webster I'm not."

Keith wasn't convinced. "If this has anything to do with me, don't do it. It's not worth it."

"But you love being sheriff," Veronica reminded her father.

"Not as much as I love you." Keith smiled. "It's a dead end civil service job, where I have to wear a starched polyester uniform. Besides with Vinnie as Sheriff, I'm the only PI in town. Business is booming baby. Or haven't you noticed?"

"No I noticed. I was also thinking about dropping to part time next semester so I'd be around to help out more."

"You will do no such thing, young lady," Keith bellowed, more loudly then he intended.

"I'm not a young lady. I'm a fully licensed private investigator in the state of California. Just like you."

Keith shook his head. "I have 20 years of law enforcement experience and 100 pounds on you, kiddo. You are not just like me and you never will be. Your former professor, Landry, was right about one thing – you have what it takes to be more than just a crappy P.I."

"I would never be a 'crappy' P.I.!" Veronica pointed out. "I'm good and you know it." Keith frowned in that begrudging fatherly way so Veronica continued, "I just want to help, Dad."

Kissing his daughter on the forehead, Keith looked down at her solemnly. "Then go to school, study hard and make me proud. Let me worry about the business."

There was no use arguing with her father when he was like this. Grabbing a leash off the hook by the door, Veronica announced "I'm going to take Backup for a walk. It'll help me think."

"Okay but wear a sweater. I'll probably be asleep when you get back. I have a 5:00 a.m. flight; I got a lead on a bail jumper just north of El Paso."

"Go get 'em Dad."

#*~*~*~*~*~*~* #

_EXTERIOR NEPTUNE BEACH _

_BEHIND THE SUNSET CLIFFS APARTMENTS_

Backup loved to walk on the beach. He'd run on the sand, bark at the waves and chase any seagulls or pelicans that dared cross his path. Because he was such a well behaved dog, Veronica always unhooked his leash to allow the mighty pit bull his freedom. She knew all she had to do was call and he'd be at her heel no questions asked.

The beach at night, especially in the shoulder seasons was one of Veronica's favorite places. There were rarely people about. Even if some brave tourist ventured onto the public beaches, the people who owned the ocean front homes south of her apartment didn't often come outside to mingle with the common folk. The rhythmic pounding of the waves soothed her troubled mind and provided her with the peace she needed to think clearly.

As they walked, Veronica obliged her favorite canine by throwing a stick or a ball for him to chase if they happened to find one in the sand. He'd gallop happily after it, jowls flapping and drool spraying from the sides of his wide doggy smile. That sight always made Veronica laugh.

Tonight was especially wonderful. It had been a gorgeous Indian summer day and the warmth continued past dusk. Despite the darkness, it was still about 68 degrees. Her hoodie was the perfect protection against the night air. She'd left her flip flops at the bottom of the stairs and rolled up the hem of her cargo pants to be able to walk in the surf. The bright half-moon glimmered off the shimmering water at the horizon.

Veronica was weighing the pros and cons of The Castle's proposition. While it should have been a dream come true, something about their offer to make her part of the elite, to help her reach her goal of becoming a full-fledged F.B.I. agent, maybe even a Special Agent In Charge didn't sit right with her. What about the concept of democracy, where people should rise and fall on their own merits, not simply because of their connections? She wasn't naïve; she knew the world didn't operate like that. Connections helped but it still felt wrong.

Jake Kane was able to wield his power to run her dad out of town on a rail, twice. Woody Goodman got away with molesting all those children. How long had that been going on? An ordinary pervert would have gotten the electric chair for murdering Lilly and trying to flambé her in a refrigerator but Aaron Echolls, movie star, action hero, got off scot free and she was relegated to the role of screaming psychologically unbalanced whore for trying to besmirch the Sexiest Man in America. Wouldn't it be nice to be the one with all that power for once?

The offer was very tempting, indeed. Her dad could be sheriff again. Logan would be safe. Nish and Wallace plus several other deserving women would have the chance to make the kinds of elite contacts it takes to excel in this world.

Nish was in. As long as they could get other women enrolled and remove the secrecy, the seductive lure of that kind of money and power won over the self-proclaimed outsider and feminist crusader faster than Dick Casablancas could chug a beer. Veronica couldn't say she was surprised. Her exposure to the seedy underbelly of life made her a cynic early. It was her experience that when given a choice most people would make the wrong one every time.

Could it really be that easy? Say 'yes' and her dream of becoming an F.B.I. agent would come true, just like that. Smirking she chided herself. What was she doing dreaming about being a mere S.A.C.? With what The Castle was claiming to offer, she could be the first female head of the F.B.I. Wouldn't J. Edgar Hoover like that? An agency head who was supposed to wear dresses. She laughed aloud at her own witticism.

The soft ocean breeze carried her laughter farther than expected to the ears of a fellow beachcomber heading toward her. "Care to share the joke?"

Veronica jerked her head up, surprised to hear another's voice and concerned that Backup didn't alert her to the interloper's presence. As soon as she saw him, she knew why Backup hadn't said a thing. The dog was barreling toward his old friend.

Logan squatted down to pet the dog. If he had remained standing, Logan knew from experience that in his exuberance Backup would hurl himself toward Logan and that 80 pounds of ballistic pit bull would have him on his back. "How ya' doin' boy?" Logan cooed at the dog, rubbing his ears and stroking down the sides of his powerful body.

"You lost?" Veronica regarded him wearily as she continued walking toward him, not taking her eyes off him. It was odd to find Logan this far north and outside of the 90909 zip code without a reason. She couldn't believe he'd been walking to her house alone at this time of night. That was disturbing on so many levels, not the least of which was the distance.

"Nope," Logan replied. "Just out for an evening stroll."

"You're pretty far from the Grande," Veronica began again.

Logan looked around, pretending that he was seeing the location for the first time. "Guess I am."

"You know, an 09er could find himself in danger in this part of town at this time of night," Veronica cautioned.

"I'll take my chances," Logan scoffed. "Besides, I have you and Backup to protect me. Don't I, Sugerpuss?"

Veronica rolled her eyes but didn't speak. She hated his sarcasm sometimes, particularly when he used what should have been a term of endearment as an insult.

Logan didn't want to fight. "I haven't seen you since you dropped in on me. So how's your semester, so far?" he searched for a neutral topic. He knew what he desperately wanted discuss with her, but he also knew that she had to start that particular conversation.

"Interesting," was the first word that popped into her mind although the description had little to do with her class schedule.

Interesting wasn't usually a good thing when it came to Veronica. "Tell me something 'interesting' about it," Logan braved the topic and plopped down onto the sand. When Veronica remained standing, Logan patted the area next to him, inviting her to join him.

Veronica did sit, crossed legged about three feet away from him. "Well, Mac and I may have saved a Drag Queen from his stalker aunt."

Logan wasn't surprised. "You and Mac do seem to have a fascinating array of friends."

When Veronica didn't respond to that comment, Logan changed tactics. "So what's new?" If he gave her an opening maybe she's talk to him. It was worth a shot.

"Same old, same old. . ." Veronica replied noncommittally but deliberately didn't follow up with a question about what was new with him. The last topic she wanted to discuss was his romantic escapades.

Hoping to keep the conversation alive, Logan inquired, "So how's . . . um. . . what's his name? Ahh, Bronson?"

"Bronson?" Veronica searched her memory to determine who Logan was talking about.

"Mac's boyfriend?"

"Oh. He's history, has been for a long time. She's dating Max, now, since the end of last semester."

Logan shook his head. He hadn't been part of Veronica's inner circle for a while and when he saw Mac it was to talk about the website, not their personal lives. "Why does that name sound familiar to me?"

Veronica snickered. "You remember Max – Wendy, the hooker? The girlfriend experience? Comic Con?"

"Wait that dweeb who paid $10-, no $11,000 to 'save' her from a life of prostitution only to dump her?"

"Exactly," Veronica agreed.

"Jeeze. I thought Mac was smarter than that. What's she gonna do next – date Dick?" Logan jested.

"Don't even joke about that," Veronica ordered.

Logan changed the subject. He had to keep her talking and this was a little closer to the truth. "What about your friend, Nish? What's she been up to?"

That's an odd question thought Veronica. She wasn't aware that Logan knew she knew Nish. Not wanting to get into it, Veronica simply skirted the issue. "We don't see each other that much anymore, since. . . .since she stopped being the editor of the _Hearst Free Press,_" and Mercer and Moe went to jail, she didn't add.

"Hmmmm," Logan pondered the indirect response but decided to go on the offensive. "You mean you haven't moved into the Lillith House yet?"

Veronica dismissed his lame attempt at a dig. "I don't hate all men, Logan."

"Oh, it's just me, then?"

She was taken aback by his presumption. "I don't hate you. Why on earth would you say such a thing?"

"You didn't call me at all – not once – while you were away. Not a text or an e-mail. Nothing. Just radio silence."

"You were out of the country," Veronica explained.

Logan stared at her with disbelief. "I took my phone."

"How was I supposed to know that?" Veronica snipped. "Besides, I had a boyfriend. It would have been wrong for me to be calling my ex-boyfriend."

Logan frowned. He hated his status as Veronica's ex-boyfriend but he hadn't figured out how to change that.

An uncomfortable silence hung over the two of them like a wet wool coat. Both had more to say but neither wanted to begin. Veronica innocently tucked a strand of wavy hair behind her ear. The ocean breeze had been playing havoc at her fruitless attempts to keep her hair out of her face.

After a few agonizing moments, Logan decided to be a man. "So . . . did you . . . didya know Duncan's back?"

Veronica was surprised that Logan knew. She guessed that Duncan must have contacted him. They had been best friends at one time. It made sense. "He's up at Stanford."

Logan wasn't surprised that Veronica knew details. He always suspected that she knew more about Duncan's disappearance and whereabouts than she ever let on. He ventured forward nonetheless. "He's married." Finding out his old friend was no longer a free man had been a huge relief to Logan. Duncan was an honorable man who would never break his marital vows so that meant he was no longer competition for Veronica's heart.

"Yeah," Veronica affirmed. "To Astrid. That must be making Celeste crazy."

Genuinely smiling at Veronica's dig against the austere Kane matriarch, Logan agreed. "Ironic. Celeste hired her to do Donut's laundry and now the laundress is doing him instead." He laughed at his own bawdiness but stopped suddenly when he realized Veronica wasn't amused. "You're not still carrying a torch for him are you?" Logan thought he would be sick if she said yes.

"What?" Veronica hadn't been paying attention to what Logan was saying. She's been studying him, searching for signs of bruises or permanent damage. The cover of darkness was thwarting her attempts to be circumspect in her assessment of his body for continuing injuries.

"Duncan . . . .you're not still in love with him, are you?" Logan waited not daring to breathe while she answered him.

"Still in love with Duncan?" Veronica wondered where he got this stuff. She leaned forward and sniffed but didn't detect alcohol on his breath. "Did you get hit on the head by your surf board or something? Give me a break. No, I am not still in love with Duncan."

Logan exhaled. "Well I don't know. You didn't mention him but you clearly knew he was back . . . from wherever and you knew he was married."

"I ran into him, okay," Veronica noticeably paused, not knowing how much of this she wanted to tell him. "End of story." She opted for a sin of omission.

When Logan's cell phone rang, Veronica took a moment to glance at hers. As he was finishing up his brief call, she stood up to leave, calling to get Backup's attention from where he was playing in the surf about ten yards up the beach. "I didn't realize it was so late. I've got early class tomorrow and I have to finish the reading."

Logan stood and brushed the sand from his pants before extending his hand to help Veronica up. She accepted his assistance but immediately broke contact once she was upright.

Logan kept waiting for her to say something more. When she'd mentioned Duncan, he'd hope she'd tell him the whole story. Veronica notice that Logan looked like he wanted to say something else but was holding back. "Yeah, well," he fumbled for words but since she'd encountered him, Veronica thought his movements were fluid and there were no signs of injuries from the beating he took this summer. She wanted to keep him that way – healthy.

"Yeah, well," Veronica parroted, not sure what to say either.

"Maybe, I'll see you on campus," Logan offered lamely.

"Sure," Veronica replied unconvincingly

"Don't be a stranger."

"You either, Logan."

Veronica set off toward her apartment. She willed herself not to look back but lost that battle. They were about 100 yards apart when she finally turned around to see Logan shuffling along kicking sand as he dragged his feet and making a trail rather than picking up his feet and leaving individual footprints. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his khakis and his head was bent in defeat. It was one of the most heartbreaking silhouettes she had ever seen. At that moment, Veronica knew what she had to do.


	10. Armistice

**A/N:** I had the whole story written before I began posting, although I'm not so hot at breaking it in to chapters. However, based on the feedback I have received I have been working to make certain changes. The next few postings will be father between because I'm endeavoring to add more detail to certain sections. Don't worry. Eventually this will be a LoVe story.

#*~*~*~*~*~*#

**Chapter 10 Armistice **

_INTERIOR MANSION _

Veronica was waiting in Jake Kane's study with Clarence Weidman when Nish and her lawyer were shown in by a maid. It was obvious that the coed was impressed with the trappings of extreme wealth. Even her lawyer wasn't doing a very good job disguising his awe.

Once they were settled, Jake strode in flanked by Rodger Hearst and another person, Veronica correctly assumed was the Castle's lawyer.

Nish's attorney practically wet himself in his haste to ingratiate himself to the powerful men. "Stewart Milkstein of Adams, Chesterson and Milkstein," the shyster stuck his hand out and shook theirs too enthusiastically with that fake double clutch favored by sleazy salespeople. "It's such an honor to meet you Mr. Kane. May I call you Jake?"

"No," the billionaire dismissed him with one word. "Veronica," he nodded to surprisingly not his least favorite guest. She returned the nod but didn't speak. Jake extended his hand to Nish, "Ms. Sweeney, I presume. Jake Kane. This is Rodger Hearst and I think you've met our lead counsel, Candice Roberts." It was a smart move, having a women represent them as the Castle battled allegations of sexual discrimination.

After everyone was settled on opposite couches with Jake safely ensconced behind his massive ornate desk, Ms. Roberts removed a large document from her briefcase and handed it to Mr. Milkstein. "This is the stipulation of settlement, confidentiality agreement and release we discussed."

Rodger Hearst interrupted them to mention the terms of the settlement that were not set forth in writing. "As we agreed, thirteen women including you and Ms. Mars will be initiated into the Castle in accordance with our sacred traditions. Mr. Fennel will be reinstated to last Spring's class to restore our number to our proper compliment. After this special all female class that will be initiated this fall, the Castle will return to its regular initiation routine of inducting thirteen new members every Spring with the best candidates from the entire student body being eligible for membership based on merit without regard to gender."

"No. We agreed that this Spring will be a double initiation – thirteen men and thirteen women – to help offset the years the Castle spent barring qualified women from reaping the privileges you previously only offered to men," Nish corrected the founder's son. She wasn't going to let them continue to railroad women.

Hearst and Jake sighed before Hearst agreed. "Fine. Let's get on with this."

Irked at being dismissed and ignored, Milkstein asserted himself, "Ms. Sweeney, I urge you to reconsider. Membership in an organization they deny even exists and a promise not to disclose the lawsuit or the terms of the settlement without receiving any financial compensation is not in your best interests."

Ms. Roberts countered that position. "Ms. Sweeney, I do not believe you are being given sound legal advice here. You know what the Castle represents, if it was indeed to exist. You also know that the Federal District Court granted our request for a TRO and a gag order both of which were upheld by the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals. Your suit has no merit and little chance of success. Take the deal."

Milkstein defended himself, "TROs are easy to get. They would never have gotten a final restraining order and we are going to win this case."

"And then what will you have?" challenged Rodger Hearst, "A judgment against a group that doesn't exist. That will get you nowhere. Instead you know what you and your friends are getting here."

Nish was practically salivating at what was being offered to her. She was hoping to ride this all the way to the editor's desk of _Newsweek_. "Stewart, I know what I'm doing," the young woman hissed at her lawyer.

"Excellent," praised Rodger. "As we discussed the new initiates to be tapped at our sole discretion will become members of the Castle assuming that you sign the confidentiality agreements and pass the initiation."

Milkstein would not be quiet. "You know that's where they are going to get you. After all this, they will say that you didn't pass the initiation. You'll be left with nothing."

"We would never do that! We have integrity," insisted Hearst.

Staring straight at Jake, Veronica interjected, "Plus, a few other incentives."

Jake Kane unflinchingly met Veronica's heated gaze. She was a worthy, if annoying, adversary. If she had been a man, she would have undoubtedly been offered admission to the Castle last spring. Jake remembered that Lianne had been feisty at that same age but years of disappointment drowned in booze sapped all of her fortitude. Jake couldn't let that same fate destroy Veronica.

"The initiation rituals faced by these women will be the same ones endured by all members of the Castle since its inception. No more. No less." Jake closed the subject.

"My clients are looking forward to having a more diverse make-up," Attorney Roberts confirmed, hoping to deflate some of the building tension in the room.

Milkstein reviewed the papers he had been handed. "This is what you agreed to," he sighed in defeat.

Ms. Roberts was compelled to point out an oversight on Milkstein's part, confirming that he was as dumb as she suspected. "Actually there was an addition. Since your retainer agreement with Ms. Sweeney was contingent on a monetary recovery which there isn't one here, we added a $10,000.00 financial bonus to cover your fees and expenses, Mr. Milkstein, provided that you and the other members of your firm also sign individual confidentiality agreements guaranteeing that you will never discuss the existence of the Castle or this law suit."

Stewart Milkstein was elated. He would be getting paid after all. "Of course, of course. I'll sign right now. I'll have my partners sign when I get back to my office and I'll have the agreement messengered to you later today." He'd been dreaming of the notoriety he'd achieve when this case toppled all of those powerful people, especially that awfully Brandon Archer who was now the managing partner at a prestigious New York law firm and a Castle alumni. Milkstein had hated him since law school, but a fee was a fee. Let his naïve client trust these bastards to keep their word. He warned her. When she didn't get initiated she'd be back wishing that she had listened to him but he'd be laughing all the way to the bank.

Once the documents were executed everyone turned to leave. Stewart Milkstein was trying to give Rodger Hearst his business card, promising to beat the price any other lawyer offered to charge HearstMart for its legal work. What Milkstein failed to realize was that while HearstMart sold cut rate merchandise to the least common denominator of society, Rodger Heart would only hire the best, which was never the cheapest, to protect himself and his empire.

"Veronica, stay a minute, would you?" Jake Kane asked in that professional voice of his which concealed his cold, dark heart.

Once everyone left, Clarence Weidman closed the heavy double doors leaving Veronica alone with Jake and Candace Roberts, Esquire.

The attorney pulled other documents out of her expensive leather briefcase. "I'm sure you surmised that the more personal arrangements you had with Mr. Kane and the Castle cannot be reduced to writing."

"Yeah. I didn't know exactly how you word a contract to rig an election," Veronica sniped

"No one is rigging anything Ms. Mars and I will caution you not to defame my client, his company or his associates to me or anyone else," admonished Roberts.

Veronica did not look chastised.

In that masterful way lawyers could spin anything Attorney Roberts elaborated with perfect whitewash, "Mr. Kane simply agreed to put his considerable weight, plus the clout of a few others, behind a Petition to the County Commissioner to hold a recall election due to voter fraud."

"I don't need to know the details," Veronica dismissed the explanation. "Just make it happen."

Candace Roberts was impressed by this young woman. Even she wasn't this cocky at twenty years old and she had been a member of Skull and Bones. Veronica was a force to be reckoned with.

"I'm actually more interested to know how you are going to keep Logan safe from that Sorkin Neanderthal," Veronica demanded.

Jake tried to comfort and reassure her, "Let us take care of that."

"No offense," Veronica lied; she meant every offensive thing she was about to say, "But you don't exactly have a track record of keeping those close to you safe."

Her barb hit its mark. "If I had known Lily was in danger . . . or you for that matter . . . I would have protected you both from . . . .Aar . . him. I did keep Duncan safe. He wouldn't have made it out there without me."

Veronica almost believed him.

"He wouldn't have been out there, if you had supported his decision and let your trained attack dog over here off her gold leash to help him get custody in the first place instead of caving into your wife's vanity." Veronica had no use for Duncan's parents who cared more about appearances than people, including their own children and grandchildren.

Jake relented, never having gotten over the rift which divided his family concerning Duncan's disappearance and Celeste's objection to the assistance Jake tried to provide to his estranged son. "Let's just say several of our more highly placed law enforcement members came to an understanding with members of the Sorkin family. Nobody wants two stupid college boys to disrupt their elders' cash flows. Business is business after all."

Veronica shuddered to think what he meant by that. She wondered if anybody was truly honest any more. She reminded herself that just because she agreed to become part of some college society didn't mean that she was endorsing wholesale corruption or that she was as morally bankrupt as the man sitting across from her. It was a lie her soul readily accepted because her heart would pay any price to avoid losing Logan to an early grave like the one that ripped away her best friend so brutally.

Not wanting this to deteriorate further, the lawyer handed Veronica a set of documents and a pen. "Sign your confidentiality agreement and we can all be on our way."


	11. Engraved Invitations

**Chapter 11 Engraved Invitations **

_INTERIOR _

_CLASSROOM HEARST COLLEGE _

It had been more than a week since Veronica signed on the dotted line and agreed to become a member of the Castle. Veronica waited on pins and needles. Should she feel different? When was this initiation going to take place? Had they blown her off? Was she really going to be forced to strip to her underwear and expected to confess to her deepest darkest secrets?

With each passing day when nothing happened she began to wonder if Milkstein's prediction was coming to fruition. The Stipulations of Dismissal had been filed with the Court, effectively terminating the litigation and ending their leverage. Now that the Castle had gotten what it wanted, were they going to live up to their end of the bargain or were they going to break their promise and deny the existence of their secret society while continuing to bar participation by women? Had this all been for nothing and was Logan still in danger? She couldn't bear to think that might be true.

It was her last class of the day. Veronica was hired and looking forward to going home. Hopefully she could sneak in a nap on the couch in the office before finishing up her dad's filing. Tomorrow was Friday. She didn't have classes but she was supposed to appear in Court with Cliff to testify as an alibi witness. The defendant could not possibly have robbed the liquor store because at the time of the hold-up she saw him checking into the Camelot Motel with his mistress.

The professor, Senora Velasquez, droned on about the proper conjugation of a series of verbs. Although Veronica dutifully typed them into her laptop, she wasn't paying attention. It didn't matter. Growing up in Southern California and hanging out with Weevil, she could speak passable Spanglish.

At the end of the period, Veronica realized a classmate was trying to talk to her. She tried to shrug herself out of her own head. 'Earth to Mars, pay attention before you have to start explaining.' "I'm sorry, Corrine. I didn't hear you."

In an attempt to be more 'normal' Veronica had made an effort to get to know her classmates – the ones who didn't have kids at 17; who weren't spoiled 09ers or the Hollywood elite; who don't know anybody who was ever murdered; who weren't in outlaw biker gangs – just average college students. Corrine was one of those people.

The nice girl from the Midwest with the short dark hair smiled indulgently all the way up to her eyes. Veronica vaguely remembered what it was like to be that unaffected. "I asked you if you had any plans for this weekend." The two girls were walking out into the sunlight of the quad together.

"Nothing big. Helping my dad. Sleeping late. Maybe trying to catch a movie." Veronica thought that answer sounded like something your average college student did. Corrine didn't need to know that 'helping her dad' probably included staking out some seedy motel waiting to get that money shot that would prove some poor person's marriage really was over. In the back of her mind, Veronica heard Wallace's pronouncement from junior year labeling her the most boring person at Neptune High. Now she graduated to being the most boring person in college.

"Well I heard about this party off campus on Saturday. It's a few blocks from here. I have the address in my phone. The house is supposed to be to die for – right on the beach, pool, hot tub and a great ocean view." Being from North Dakota the idea of a swanky party on the beach in October was irresistible to Corrine.

"That's not my scene," Veronica tried to beg off.

"Work and study, that's no way to get through college," Corrine teased. "Plus since you're a commuter, I was kind of hoping you'd drive. I don't have a car."

Veronica chuckled softly. Selfish motives disguised as good intentions she could understand. She didn't remember the last time she went to a college party and she really couldn't remember the last time she went to one purely for fun. New school year. New friends. How bad could it be? "Okay. I'll pick you up at 9:00 in the commuter lot."

**#~*~*~*~*~*~#**

_**EXTERIOR QUAD **_

_**HEARST COLLEGE **_

As Veronica and Corrine continued chatting, they were approached by a knight in full armor riding a white horse. It was such a cliché, Veronica almost laughed in the guy's face.

"Ah, fair damsel," the knight bowed without dismounting. "I bid you greetings from my King."

"Your king?" Veronica didn't understand what this costumed fool was babbling about. Other students were starting to point and stare. She continued walking but he maneuvered the horse to block her path.

"Milady, I have been charged by my King to summon you to his castle."

With the mention of the word "castle" Veronica's full attention was riveted to the knight. Although it had taken her a moment, Veronica now understood the meaning of this elaborate invitation. When the knight reached out a gloved hand, Veronica readjusted her messenger bag to drape the strap across her body before grasping his arm and allowing him to help her mount the horse. Once atop the mighty beast, she settled herself behind the knight whose armor she discovered was made of lightweight aluminum, and wrapped her arms around his waist because there wasn't anything else to hold.

"How romantic!" squealed Corinne, envious that a knight in shining armor hadn't ridden up to sweep her off her feet. "You're so lucky!"

"That's me. The luckiest girl in the world," parroted Veronica. While this had all the hallmarks of a fairytale Veronica only saw the sinister side of the Castle. 'And so it begins,' she thought, wondering if she should make a quick cell phone call to someone just in case. She thought better of it and hoped should something go horribly wrong that Corrine would make a good witness. Then again, what had she seen? The guy's face was covered by his helmet and Veronica had willingly climbed onto the horse.

She had to give them points. A kidnapping in broad daylight on a crowded campus but nobody saw anything untoward; it actually looked romantic to any casual observer. All those witnesses and absolutely no concrete evidence.

"So, this is far cry from being stuffed in the trunk of a town car," Veronica observed as they moved away from Corrine who beamed dreamily at them as they set off.

"I know not of what thou speaks milady," the knight responded.

"Puh-lease," Veronica sighed, annoyed that her 'ride' was playing coy. "Quasi-abductions. Isn't that the Castle's standard M-O."

"Fair maiden, my King doth prefer that thee not trouble thy beautiful head with matters that are of no concern to thee."

"That's where you are mistaken. Everything about the Castle concerns me. Where are we going, anyway?"

"To another steed . . . a faster mythological beast, most likely of Merlin's conjecture," the knight replied. The answer didn't help the curious, skeptical girl.

Not getting a rational response regarding their destination, Veronica opened another area of inquiry. "So who are you? Captain of the football team? Son of a famous actor? Techno-nerd? What's your story?"

"I am but the humble servant of my King, sworn to everlasting fidelity pledged with my life to deliver the fair maiden to the safety of the Courtyard."

Before Veronica could further probe the drivel that was pouring from this guy's mouth, he stopped the horse next to a white limousine parked near the dean's office.

"Oh, not this again," Veronica complained.

"Thy steed awaits, Milady," the knight offered as he alighted from the horse to help her down. When her feet reached the ground, the knight walked over and opened the door of the luxury car. As Veronica approached, he pulled a silk scarf from under the tunic portion of his costume.

Veronica immediately knew what was coming and she didn't like it. "Oh, no. I'm not putting on a blindfold."

"The King ordained that thy beautiful eyes be blindfolded for thine own protection. The circumstances of the enchanting journey upon which thou art embarking are highly unconventional and fraught with peril. Secrecy is warranted, lest a neighboring kingdom seek to invade this province. Thy virtue must remain above all else and that cannot be assured unless thou knowest not where thou will fulfill thy destiny as had been preordained."

Veronica glared at him. She was already sick of this medieval nonsense and Old English pretense. "No blindfold."

"I beg thy indulgence, fair maiden. While I knowest not of such things, far above my station, my king obliged me to remind thee of thy sacred promise and vow to which thou art bound by all that is in heaven and on earth. Although thou art the fairest of maidens, thou must still subject thyself to thy king as doth all his other squires and worthy knights."

"Oh for Pete's sake." Veronica was exasperated but she grabbed the silk cloth out of the knight's hand and climbed into the limo, disentangling herself from her messenger bag after reassuring herself that old Sparky was still within her grasp. She took a bottle of water out of the ice bucket on the far side, and then laid it on the leather seat next to her, not bothering to wipe off the condensation. After winding the blindfold around her eyes, she uncapped the water and settled back against the seat, taking a long, cool drink.

When she was settled, the knight reminded her not to take off the blindfold. "Fair maiden, thou journeys under the protection of the King with all of Merlin's wizardry to protect thee on thy way. But be aware. There is a magical orb which sees all. The King will know if thou breaks thy word and doth uncover thy fair eyes. The spell will be broken and thou will be banished . . . and the kingdom and the prince will be lost forever."

"I get it," Veronica assured the knight. "There's a live feed video camera in the limo. I'll keep the blindfold on for this charade. Let's get on with this." Her words were far braver than the fear clutching her heart indicated. Veronica did not like giving up control. Why did she agree to this again? Oh yeah to protect Logan who was just threatened if she wasn't mistaken.

"God's speed, Milady," the knight wished her well as he kissed her hand. Closing the door, he stepped back. From the driver's side rearview mirror the operator confirmed that the knight and his horse were safely away from the car before pulling out. In an effort to disorient the lone passenger the limo began its methodical journey through Neptune, winding along the streets and doubling back to both waste time and prevent Veronica from possibly figuring out where she was being taken.

Around campus Wallace and twelve women were snatched from their routines when unidentified assailants covered their heads with black hoods and stuffed them into the trunks of cars. Just like the ritual Wallace endured last Spring, the new recruits were driven to a warehouse and instructed to enter individual rooms.

#*~*~*~*~*~*~*#

_INTERIOR _

_CASTLE HQ_

Upon arrival the new recruits were placed in small individual rooms with a folding chair and a video camera. They were told to strip to their underwear and don the shock collars. Although he had been through this before, Wallace was still unnerved. A different disembodied voice asked, "Mr. Fennel, do you have any secret recording devices on your person this time?"

"No," Wallace replied truthfully. He really didn't want to go through this confession and pain ritual again. He also had no idea why this group was so obsessed with stripping people to their skivvies. Why couldn't secret initiations be conducted fully dressed?

"We're glad you learned your lesson. Not many people get a second chance. Don't blow it," the disembodied voice instructed him. "Now, tell us again about Rashad and that night in Chicago."

Wallace recounted the details of the incident where his former teammate got drunk and ran down a homeless man. As he was talking he heard high pitched screams and feminine yelps from around him. A second voice reminded the participants that if they lied, their colleagues would be punished because they needed to learn to trust one another with everything; only by standing united together could they be truly successful. When Wallace finished his Chicago story he was asked to reveal the details of the evidence switch involving the surveillance tapes from the Sac – n - Pac and the tape of the sheriff's deputy receiving sexual favors in exchange for overlooking illegal activity at the Seventh Veil. He wondered just where these guys got their information.

After about 45 minutes worth of questions and a few mild jolts of electricity, the voice instructed Wallace to take the collar off, replace the black hood over his head and step out of the room without putting his clothes back on. When he did so, he knew there were other people in the hall but he didn't know how many. Strong, calloused, male hands clamped down on his shoulders.

"Walk this way," the owner of the hands commanded, physically directing Wallace to turn to his right and begin walking down a corridor.

#~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*#

_EXTERIOR PARKING LOT_

Veronica's limo had arrived a few minutes earlier. She was immediately on edge when the car stopped and was instantly aware that someone had climbed into the car with her. When he began speaking Veronica immediately recognized Jake's voice. "You have been tapped to be a member of an elite organization known as the Castle. Great knowledge and the potential to achieve your heart's desire will be offered to you. You have only to grasp what has been placed before you. You have been spared the normal rites of passage because we know you are intimately familiar with our codes and how our interlocking secrets combine to strengthen us all. If you fail to uphold your oath of loyalty to our sacred brotherhood certain videotape evidence proving that you committed felony burglary will be released to law enforcement and you will be banished from our midst forever."

Although Jake had intended his warning to be ominous, it only served to make Veronica laugh. "As long as you uphold your end of the bargain to reinstate my father as Sheriff and to keep Logan safe, I have no intention of outing you to the world."

Jake acted as if she hadn't spoken. "You will be escorted into a building. The ground is level and flat but someone will assist you. Take care not to stumble on our journey. Inside you will be allowed to remove your blindfold but then you will undress to your undergarments and place a hood over your head. From there you will be given further instructions."

Veronica ripped the blindfold from her eyes and scowled at Jake Kane. "What is this? Some sick way to get your jollies? Aaron defiling your daughter wasn't enough? Now you and your goons think you are gonna get a shot at me? I don't know what you are trying to pull but this was not part of our deal. I don't take my clothes off for anyone!" Veronica was shaking with rage. Never in a million years had she expected that she was being set up to be raped.

Jake was horrified at Veronica's allegations. He tried to soothe her and make her understand. "Shedding your worldly protections is part of the ritual. It's not sexual. No one will hurt you. How could you honestly think I would let somebody hurt you like that?"

Veronica remained unconvinced. If looks could kill, Jake Kane should have been six feet under in a matter of seconds. This was man who allowed his only daughter to have sex with a brutal child abuser who later bashed her head in. His indignation did not mollify Veronica in the slightest. Jake Kane's only concerns were money and prestige. People did not factor into that equation.

"It's symbolic. You strip off the old and we remake you into a true Castle member."

When Veronica didn't acquiesce Jake continued, "Think back Veronica. I'm sure Mr. Fennel shared his previous experience with you – he was stripped but because he was unfaithful he was never deemed worthy to be re-clothed in Castle garb. It's not about sex; I swear."

Veronica would not relent. "This is ridiculous. If one person touches me, I swear I'm going to kill you and every member of the Castle. You know I can do it and I won't leave any evidence."

Jake frowned. He believed her, but this had been the tradition for decades. It was based on ancient ritual – stripping the neophyte to have the man be reborn in the image of the creators. It took a man down to his essence and rebuilt him, making him stronger and more powerful along the way.

"This is the initiation ritual. We told you that when you signed on. The new recruits would be treated just like the prior initiates. We've all gone through this." He considered for a moment that since the Castle was now admitting women that they may have to rethink those portions of the ritual that involved nudity. In hindsight perhaps asking women to disrobe was different than forcing guys to strip. A life time of locker rooms dispelled most male modesty from an early age, but women were different. He made a mental note to bring up the issue at the next Trustee's Meeting but there was nothing he could do about it now. He just had to get Veronica to go along. She'd pushed this issue so far. He had to make her understand that if she could just get past this, he was offering her the world, something that he'd never be able to do for his own daughter. In a way, Veronica was his second chance. This was his opportunity to atone for all the mistakes he made with Lily. She had to do this – for all of their sakes.

"I'm not gonna dress up like some reject from the Renaissance fair or let a bunch of middle aged perverts get off looking at me," she spat disdainfully.

"It's not like that it. It's symbolic. I promise; nothing sexual will happen to you. Just put your blind fold back on and get out of the car. For once in your life try to be cooperative and do as you're told," Jake implored, reaching out to wrap the material around her eyes. She didn't protest.

Once he was sure the blindfold was in place, the elder Kane exited the limo and helped Veronica to do the same. Outside he passed her off to someone else who led her inside to a small room containing a folding chair. The same disembodied voice which had been directing the others' movements ordered Veronica to strip and don the hood. Reluctantly she shucked her clothes until she was left in a plain white bra and blue boy shorts. Veronica thanked her lucky stars that she hadn't worn a thong.


	12. Rites of Passage

**A/N: **These sections about the initiation are a little long but they are essential to allowing Veronica to find her way back to Logan in any meaningful way if they are to have any hope of a healthy relationship.

Crucibles are excellent vessels for exposing their contents to extreme pressures, intermixing them, and thereby making them stronger for having endured.

**Chapter 12: Rights of Passage **

Once the squires - as the Castle pledges were known – had been prepared, they were lead into a large gathering room. Inside they were directed to kneel and remain silent. The ground was cold and hard beneath their knees. Veronica wondered if they were kneeling on stone. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out exactly where they had been taken and what was going to happen next. She felt so exposed, almost betrayed, by her near nudity. She tried to figure out how many people were in this room - how many men were getting their jollies ogling their new female pledges. It was unsettling but more than shame, anger was rising inside of her. She kept reminding herself that she was doing this for Logan, to keep him safe. She also tried to believe that Jake had been telling her the truth that this wasn't about sex.

Squeezing her eyes shut, even though she couldn't see anything under the black hood Veronica telepathically apologized for getting the other women into this mess. She had no idea that nudity and humiliation were part of the deal.

"You are the newest squires of the Castle," an unidentified male voice broke the eerie silence. "Squires are uneducated servants - vile creatures who need to be built into strong knights. Only the best and brightest endure. You will be tested and if you are deemed worthy, you will be reborn as Knights of the Castle, bound by blood and brotherhood to each other and the Castle itself. Thirteen of you have been called. We'll see how many complete the challenge that lies before you. Our traditions run deep and the riches of the kingdom will be yours for the taking . . . if you survive this night." Veronica did not like that sound of that.

"Throw down the gauntlet. Throw down the gauntlet," a number of voices chanted softly in unison.

The single voice continued, "Before you can go into battle you need to be properly armored."

The strong hands that had been holding her shoulders released and Veronica felt something being placed over head. It was cool and heavy where it rested on her shoulders. Instinctively Veronica reached out her hand to touch the garment where it lay draped over her midsection hanging from her shoulders. It was metallic but it moved. Her mind raced as she worked to identify her new garment. Realization dawned suddenly. These guys really took the idea of a castle and knights seriously; she correctly surmised she was wearing a chain mail tunic. Oddly Veronica was comforted by fact that it did a good job covering her otherwise half naked body, even though it was open on the sides. She could feel the hem of the garment pooling at her knees but assumed it would have only come to the thighs of a larger male. She was also pleasantly surprise when hands gently lifted her hair out from underneath the heavy garment so that it was no longer pulling on her tresses. She found herself deriving strength and comfort from her new armor.

"Squires, you may remove your hoods and look upon your king," the voice directed while the group again chanted, "Throw down the gauntlet. Throw down the gauntlet."

Frustrated with being deprived of sight, Veronica ripped the black hood from her head to find herself kneeling in a circle with her fellow squires. Dozens o hooded men stood against the walls. Their faces could not be seen in the low candle light that provided the only illumination in the dungeon like room. She still had no idea where she was.

In front of her stood the King. He was tall man, wearing an ankle length purple velvet cape trimmed in white fur held together by a series of gold clasps and chains. His outfit was straight out a Hollywood production of a fairytale. His pants and shirt were non-descript black but clearly made in this century. The rivets at the corners of his jeans pockets were noticeable upon careful scrutiny. He had on an ornate gold crown and a gold Lone Ranger style mask which was big enough to conceal his other features. He carried a gold scepter topped with a three dimensional replica of Hearst's crest. The King began walking around the circle, inspecting each squire.

When Veronica turned her head to follow the King's movement, the strong hands from earlier jerked her head back. "Eyes forward," the owner of the hands commanded.

In response the hooded masses again chanted, "Throw down the gauntlet. Throw down the gauntlet."

Veronica wished she knew what gauntlet they were talking about. None of this made sense. Without moving her head, Veronica surveyed as much of the room as she could with only her eyes. He brain was working overtime trying to figure where she was, who else was here and what was going to happen next. She didn't know if Wallace was in the room. She also couldn't find Jake Kane but she knew he had to be here somewhere. The women on either side of her were also wearing chain mail tunics over their underwear but she didn't know exactly who they were. Although she and Nish had given the Castle a list of qualified women, the final agreement was that the Castle got to select the first women members and they were not restricted to the list in making their selections.

What looked like a court jester, the Devil and a wizard passed in front of her. They were circling the squires, equidistant from each other, presumably matching the pace set by the King. If she wasn't so off balance, this might actually be comical. Somehow the absurdity served to calm her. Little boys playing dress up could hardly be considered potentially deadly rapists, could they?

The King invited the new Squires to introduce themselves and briefly explain why they thought there were tapped to be part of such an illustrious group.

Wallace was up first. "I'm Wallace Fennel, number 13 on the Hearst Basketball Team. I was tapped because I'm the best point guard this school has had in recent history and you all have some freaky weird ass affection for the number 13."

A fat woman with glasses and bad acne scars was next. "I'm Amanda Moss. I guess I'm here because I got a perfect score on my SATs and hope to be Valedictorian of my class one day."

A dark haired woman with porcelain skin spoke next. "I'm Brigit Kennedy-Smythe. My grandfather was a Supreme Court Justice."

"My name is Xi May Quon," a small oriental woman said. "I am an engineering student and the youngest person to ever be accepted into NASA's astronaut training program."

"I'm Nish Sweeny, President of the Lillith House, past editor of the _Hearst Free Press_, a founding member of the Hearst Chapter of Take Back the Night and one of the reasons you are all here." Shyness and modesty were not in Nish's vocabulary.

Mac was up next. "I'm Cindy MacKenzie. I guess I'm here because I'm Veronica's friend – the Q to her Bond. I'm a whiz at computers." Although she suspected that her hacking of the encrypted data file was why she and every other woman was being initiated, unlike Nish, Mac didn't feel the need to brag.

A perky blonde introduced herself as Jennifer Johnson. "I'm here because I'm captain of the cheerleading team."

The editor of Hearst's yearbook, the _Tapestry_ was up next. "I'm Maria Alvarado."

It was no surprise when the tallest women in the group said, "I'm Tamisha Jones, center for the women's basketball team."

A redhead said "I'm Patsy Cheyknee. My dad, Rudolph Cheyknee III, the CEO of Calibarton Enterprises, was a King of this Castle. My brother Kevin was also a member. Someday he and I will run my father's empire." Somebody had clearly been coached about the inner workings of this group.

The hooded figures around the room broke out into a chorus of "Legacy; leg-a-cy; leg-a-cy," accompanied by stomping and clapping which seemed to shake the walls.

When the chanting died down, the Jester pointed to the next Squire. "I'm Emmy Nishibashi. I am a botanist here on campus and last years winner of the American Pharmaceutical industry's research grant." [A/N: this is the other scientist in _Show Me the Monkey._]

Veronica was somewhat awed by the level of accomplishment and poise many of these women achieved. "I'm Veronica Mars. I'm here because I will always make someone pay who has wronged me." She figured starting strong would be a good plan plus she assumed Gory was in this room somewhere hidden behind a cloak and a mask. She wanted him to know that she would never forget what he had done; it broken her but rather emboldened her.

"I'm Daphne Lancaster," the most beautiful woman in the room drawled; she had a full figure and a cascade of honey blonde hair dripping down her back. "I was Miss Tennessee two years ago and Second Runner up in last year's Miss United States Pageant. I'm currently the spokes-model for Bootylicious Hair Care Products but I want to break into acting."

The stockiest and most athletic of the women was the last to be introduced. "I'm Lisa Phelps. I won bronze in the women's 200 meter fly at the Olympics in Athens but I'm hoping for gold in Bejing."

After all the squires had been introduced the costumed leaders continued to circle the squires. After they walked around twice the Devil stopped in front of Veronica. The King, the jester and the wizard all took their places before other members.

Eying her cagily the Devil waited. From somewhere else in the room Veronica heard the King's voice. "The Knights of the Castle are clever. Prove your worthiness by answering the questions posed to you. If your intelligence proves false, you will be flogged!"

On cue the masses chanted, "Throw down the gauntlet. Throw down the gauntlet."

Staring at Veronica the Devil queried, "On the day appointed for the sacred cherub who allowed his arrow to pierce two hearts binding them forever, the King walked on water. How could that be?" Around her, Veronica could hear other inane questions being posed to different squires. It was a riddle. She liked puzzles. She could do this.

"Tick Tock. Tick Tock," the chorus chanted.

She took a breath and started to think. The sacred cherub had to be Cupid. The appointed day would be Valentine's Day, February 14. It was usually cold in February so . . . . "The water was frozen," she answered triumphantly. The Devil nodded, pleased that she had answered correctly.

Behind her, Veronica heard a male voice angrily shout, "No, you fool." She guessed one of the other squires didn't answer the question correctly.

"Throw down the gauntlet. Throw down the gauntlet." Veronica was already annoyed by this insipid, meaningless chant.

"The Castle is only as strong as its weakest link. Your ignorance has damaged your fellow squires," the leader admonished.

Veronica was struggling not to turn and look. The man behind her must have read her thoughts. "Eyes forward," he hissed roughly.

"To restore their strength and honor you must be flogged."

Veronica started to get up. She desperately wished she had Mr. Sparky with her. She was not about to let some over privileged jerk strike a defenseless, half-naked woman, at least not without putting up a fight. Strong hands pushed her back down. "Stay," her captor commanded. More softly he whispered in her ear, "It won't be that bad."

"Squires, turn and face each other in the sacred crucible."

Each person in the circle stood up and turned around. It was the first time Veronica was seeing the other squires. She finally found Wallace and Nish. Mac caught her eye with an expression that said, "what the [bleep] did you get me into?"

The captain of the cheerleading team, Jennifer Johnson, was being led into the circle. It figured that the cheerleader would be the weak intellectual link.

"Kneel," the King commanded. Hands pushed each of the squires back down. Veronica had seen red marks on everyone's knees from the marble floor.

The King addressed the cheerleader. "By your error you have shamed your fellow Squires. You are not worthy to enter the Castle. You will be flogged."

Jennifer was absolutely terrified and on the verge of tears. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again. Don't hurt me," she wailed.

Veronica couldn't take anymore. She dashed forward before her assigned captor had a chance to grab her. Wallace moved to join her but was restrained. Using herself as a shield, Veronica faced the King. "You are not going to flog her, you barbarian!"

Behind her she did not see the handler whisper to the cheerleader.

The room grew eerily quiet; then a soft chant began, "Throw down the gauntlet. Throw down the gauntlet."

As Veronica was focused on trying to protect the other women, she didn't notice the wooden bowls being placed on the floor by the squires.

The King appraised Veronica. The mask was successfully hiding his pride at her courage. "As you wish. You can be flogged in her place."

The cheerleader's escort grabbed Veronica by the arms and held her tight. She began thrashing, kicking and screaming with all her might but barefoot she was no match for the six foot plus 220 pound wall of muscle who had her in his unyielding grasp. She had tried stepping on the inside of his foot but he had on shoes so her stomp had no effect. Her short legs could not reach back to take him down by kicking out his knees and she didn't have the upper arm strength to break his gasp or elbow him in the groin. She knew it was only a matter of time before he relaxed and gave her an opening. She just had to remain calm and remember her F.B.I. defense training from this summer.

Unexpectedly, the cheerleader she had been trying to protect reached in and placed her hands on Veronica's shoulders. Leaning in the cheerleader whispered, "It's OK. That's Brian, my boyfriend. He promised it wouldn't hurt. Just go with it."

Veronica stopped struggling. The guy holding her was Brian Washington, Hearst's all American defensive tackle destined for the NFL? That made sense because Veronica knew the captain of the football team was a member but after screaming and carrying on why was Jennifer now assuring Veronica that this wasn't going to hurt.

"Stay," Brian ordered her, walking Jennifer back to her place in the circle. Veronica obeyed but swallowed visibly still trying to find a way out. Wallace and Mac were both being held back and both looked terrified for her. She moved her hands up and down as though patting the air, trying to signal them to calm down. She had to believe that she wasn't in physical danger.

With order restored, the King continued. "The flogging will commence. Twenty lashes for you." Veronica squeaked with a sharp intake of breath steeling herself for the expected pain. ". . . twenty lashes with a wet noodle." She visibly relaxed and almost smiled until she saw the warning glare from the King and the wizard silently telling her to take this seriously so she gritted her teeth to bite back a laugh. This was so absurd.

The peanut gallery launched into another chorus of "Thrown down the gauntlet."

That's when Veronica realized that each of the costumed characters had a strand of what looked to be fettuccine in his hand. Each threw a piece of pasta at her and counted as he did so: "one", "two", "three", "four". Each squire was instructed to throw a noodle at Veronica while she stood unrestrained in the circle. The hooded man who had been holding her also tossed some pasta at her. Finally the King and the Pope each threw one more noodle at her for a total of twenty lashes. When they were finished, Veronica walked back to her place in the circle. The riddles and the lashings continued until each squire had correctly solved a riddle or been pelted with pasta.

The Devil stepped into the crucible to address the group. "It's not always easy to stand up for your principles but oftentimes it's necessary. Do not give into the temptation to hide. A sin of omission is still a sin and the biggest sin in our castle is to bear witness to the struggles of a fellow knight but fail to act. Courage will always be rewarded."

He strode over to Veronica and handed her a large decorative key. "For standing up for your fellow squire, you are hereby awarded one free pass. You may use it at any time during your Castle membership at your discretion."

The squires were then instructed to turn around and face outward. Purple pillows trimmed in gold braid had been set out on the floor before them. When they were again instructed to kneel, Veronica knelt on the pillow. Other squires knelt on the hard marble floor.

This time the wizard spoke as the costumed figures continue to circle the group. "To those of you who knelt on the pillow, well done. You know in this life when an opportunity to make your own path easier is presented, you must seize it. You cannot wait for it to be offered to you or your suffering will endure too long and perhaps worsen over time." The handlers for those squires who knelt on the floor picked up the pillows and bonked their charges over the head with them. Then they placed the pillows back on the ground. No squire had to be told twice. They all placed the pillows under their grateful knees.

The naming ceremony was next. The Jester explained through exaggerated giggles, "Within these walls you will be reborn. You shed your old world and are rendered anew. A new name, for a new life."

Nish became "Eve" because the mother of all mankind was the first to succumb to evil and temptation. She just had to eat the forbidden fruit from the tree of all knowledge and so had caused humanity to be cast out of the paradise that was the Garden of Eden. Nish's curiosity had caused women to come into the Castle. Wallace was Trent, a play on the number thirteen. Mac became Apple based on her affinity for computers. The biologist was Ivy, for Poison Ivy. Amanda was renamed Pencil because you take the SATs with a number two pencil. The justice's granddaughter called Sandra after the first women Supreme Court Justice. The Olympic swimmer was dubbed not surprisingly Fish. The cheerleader got stuck with Bounce. Sally after Sally Ride became the new name for the budding astronaut. The yearbook editor became Scribe. As a play on words because of Dick Cheney's former job, the industrialist's daughter got stuck with Swee' Pea which rhymes with Vee Pee. Given her impressive playing record, the basketball player was renamed Dunk. Finally Veronica was christened Marta which was short for Mata Hari, the infamous spy.

The King praised the Squires for their performance so far. "You have all done well. You have met the challenges set before you but your tasks are not complete."

The wizard continued. "As squires you must trust the Knights whom you serve and they in turn must trust you. As we all trust in the gods of old and our King, we must trust one another. Rise. Now, turn and face the crucible."

The squires complied.

Once they were all facing each other again the wizard instructed the handlers to take one step to the right; in effect each handler was now behind another squire.

The wizard resumed his pontification. "As tonight's events have unfolded you squires have come to rely on the handlers assigned to you. They led you safely into our inner sanctum, even though you were blind folded and did not know the way. They dressed you in your armor, literally and symbolically protecting you from external threats. They guided you through this ritual. As each handler helped an individual squire, so each one helped the whole of the Castle. Now you are being asked to trust in a handler you don't know so that you learn to trust one is to trust all. On the count of 13 each squire will fall straight backwards into the arms of a Knight having faith that we will never let our members fall."

Veronica always hated this exercise. Trust was never something that came easy to her. Still she knew she had to trust but she didn't have the ability. Too many people in her life had let her down; in her short life she had seen too much. After several weeks at the Academy this summer she'd managed to do it – to allow herself to fall backwards trusting that someone would catch her. She had been amazed that every other member of her class had simply fallen backwards on command into the arms of an instructor simply because they were asked to do so. It was incomprehensible to her that trust could come so easily. Here in this room filled will silly pranks and goofy new nicknames she wasn't sure she would be able to just let go.

When the wizard's voice reached thirteen, thirteen dutiful squires fell backwards into the waiting arms of the handlers poised to catch them. Veronica remained upright.

As expected, the chanting was renewed, "Throw down the gauntlet. Throw down the gauntlet. Lash her. Lash her."

Veronica was fine with that and moved to stand in the middle of the circle so people could throw fettuccini on her again. She would much rather be pelted with pasta then risk falling onto the stone and cracking her head open because a stranger let her down.

The Devil was immediately in her face. "I see somebody has trust issues."

The King was quick to intercede. "But we also have a sense of responsibility and an understanding of the concept of the need to accept the consequences for one's actions . . . or in this case transgressions."

"Go ahead, lash me," Veronica conceded.

"No," declined the King. "This is your test. This is your weakness, your Achilles heel. You have to learn to trust."

Narrowing her eyes Veronica glared at her tormentor. "No really, I'm fine. Just throw some more pasta at me. I'll take my twenty lashes."

"You could use your free pass," the Devil reminded her glancing at the key which remained clutched in Veronica's hand. "But doing so would confirm that you are weak and afraid."

'Not much of a_ free_ pass', thought Veronica glumly as she moved to hand him the key.

Before she could place the key in the wizard's hand, the King declared, "No, you are going to do this. You are going to trust your fellow knights." He paused for a minute thinking then called, "Sir Knight Hoover, Sir Knight Polo, Sir Knight Valentino, Squire Trent and Squire Apple step forward."

Mac and Wallace dutifully moved closer, not knowing what to expect. Three hooded figures from the crowd entered the circle. Each hooded figure walked behind Veronica, embraced her under her arms and said, "Trust me . . . now sink." The first voice Veronica immediately recognized as belonging to Jake Kane. With his arms firmly grasping her much smaller frame she was able to let herself slide straight down into his arms while he held her weight. This she could do because she had more control. The second voice, Sir Knight Polo, she recognized as her equestrian from earlier. "My King commands thee, Milady. Trust me . . . now sink." Again, Veronica gave him her slight weight and he held her up. The third knight repeated the ritual. Veronica was sure she knew his familiar voice. For the first time since mounting the horse several hours earlier Veronica felt like she could trust someone in this room. She easily gave him her weight when he asked.

Looking at Mac and Wallace the King ordered them to repeat the ritual and they did. Veronica had been a bit concerned about sinking onto Mac but she knew that Mac was trustworthy. Wallace of course would never drop her. Her BFF was da bomb.

"Squires, step back," the Devil directed Mac and Wallace returned to their places in the circle.

The three knights encircled Veronica, interlocking their arms as they walked around her chanting, "Trust is earned."

They were out-shouted by the chorus, "Trust is given."

After a few rounds of this game the knights stopped moving then the Devil demanded. "Pick a Knight Squire Marta."

Veronica selected Sir Knight Hoover without hesitation but she didn't know why. The logical choice would be Jake Kane, a known quantity and father figure, but she'd seen him let Duncan down and heaven knows he'd disappointed her mother. Truth be told after everything that happened, she could never again fully trust Lilly's father. Polo would have been an okay choice; he'd kept her safe during their earlier encounter but there was just something so compelling about Hoover. As he moved to stand behind her he entreated her to "trust me" once again.

In front of her Valentine and Polo bantered "trust is earned" – "trust is given" while the wizard counted to thirteen again. This time Veronica let herself fall straight backwards as expected. Hoover caught her. He whispered "Well done, Marta," helping her upright.

The hooded gallery all clapped and so did her fellow squires who recognized that something important had occurred even if they did not comprehend its full significance.

Veronica was then allowed to walk back to her place in the circle. The three hooded knights disappeared into the crowd.

The Jester began laughing. "We're almost done. We're almost done," he called gleefully in a falsetto sing song voice.

"In recognition of your new and unbreakable alliance and the strides you have made tonight, you must now all be bound by blood." The Devil's words were ominous, but based on the silliness of the other tests and punishments Veronica wasn't particularly worried. All in all this has been kind of fun, the trust business aside. She liked her new name. However, her merriment was soon replaced by fear when the Devil continued. "These sacred lances will enable you to mix your blood together with the blood of those who came before. Infused as one, this consecrated libation will strengthen the foundations of our fortress. In your combined potency lies our future."

Each handler grabbed the right hand of a squire and readied a needle. As the jester came before each squire with a gold chalice, the handlers pricked the squires' fingers and squeezed a drop of blood into the chalice. When it was Veronica's turn she was able to discern that there was other liquid already in the large gold cup. Sanitary and health issues included, this was truly gross and almost barbaric.

When each squire had made a contribution, the wizard stepped into the center of the circle to receive the chalice from the jester who moved away after the transfer. Alone in the crucible the wizard held the chalice above his head the way priests do at communion during a Catholic Mass, and made one full rotation showing the cup to the assembled group. "Now, our sanctified numbers have returned. We are again multiples of 13 – like the Knights Templar – slaughtered on Friday the 13th to protect the sacred mysteries. We have bonded in blood and forged in firelight. Our new members are eternally joined with those who came before whose hallowed essence filled this cup in bygone days. It is time for us to drink and solidify our unending loyalty to one another," the wizard intoned.

When the King stepped back into the circle, the wizard handed the chalice to him. The King drank deeply from the glass before returning it to the wizard who also drank. The jester, the Devil and one hooded figure joined them in the circle to share the cup.

Turning to Veronica the unknown hooded figure passed her the chalice. "Imbue yourself with the souls of your brethren. Inebriate yourself with their riches and vigor." Veronica looked at him like he'd just handed her a cup of poison. These boys were seriously deluded if they thought she was going to ingest whatever this unsanitary concoction was. Nevertheless she took the chalice with two hands and held it up to her face. Over the top of the rim she could see Mac's horrified expression. Hoping to buy a few more precious seconds to formulate a plan she sniffed the contents of the chalice. It smelled like Hawaiian punch. She'd been expecting at least wine. She placed her lips on the edge of the cup trying not to think about whose mouth had been there last or whether anybody ever washed this glass. Tilting, she pretended to take a small sip but never let the liquid touch her lips. The hooded figure was none the wiser. When he moved out of her line of sight, she mouthed to Mac and Wallace, "Don't swallow."

After everyone had partaken – or not – of the blood elixir the four costumed figures huddled together in the center of the crucible, back to back staring out at the squires. They turned a full circle making eye contact with each squire. When they returned to their original places, the King announced "The Castle has deemed you worthy. You have passed the time honored tests." Continuing to turn he addressed each new member by the new nickname in welcome starting with Veronica. "Welcome Sir Knight Marta." The Chorus of hooded Knights responded in mass, "All hail, Marta," with each person's name as they were introduced.

It was official. For better or worse, Veronica was now a member of the Castle. She wondered what Logan would think of her decision.


	13. A Feast Fit For A Queen

**A/N:** Sorry this took so long. RL got in the way.

#~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~#

**Chapter 13: A Feast Fit for a Queen**

The Jester broke from the circle and headed toward one of the doors. "If the new knights will follow me back to the rooms, you can change for dinner."

Veronica wasn't expecting to be fed but the minute the Jester mentioned dinner she realized how hungry she was. She also wondered what time it was. It had been about 4:00 o'clock when the knight on horseback, who she now knew as Polo, showed up outside of her Spanish class.

The Devil walked to the other side of the stone room near where two other men were rolling large garment racks into the room, "Brothers, please hang up your masks and hoods carefully, then head to the Great Hall for dinner. Leaders leave your costumes in their bags so I can take them to the dry cleaners." After the whole medieval ritual, it seemed anachronistic to be talking about dry cleaning.

Veronica and the other newly ordained knights headed toward the rooms where their clothes were. Mac caught up to her friend, "I was really starting to hate you when somebody pulled a hood over my head. That was so not cool."

"I'm sorry."

"We warned you something like this might happen," Nish said by way of not apologizing. "It wasn't exactly what I thought it was going to be."

"How do you think I felt?" Wallace interjected. "I don't know which was worse – being in my shorts with a bunch of guys or being the only guy half naked with a bunch of women."

"I know a lot of guys who would have traded places with you in a New York minute," Veronica chuckled. "I'm sure it dropped your score on the purity test." Both remembered the day Veronica got caught by his mother flashing Wallace so he could at least get a 70 rather than a score than indicated he was as pure as the driven snow.

The Jester told them all to get changed and assemble back in the corridor so he could bring them to the Great Hall where they would be having dinner.

Returned to the rooms where they had earlier disrobed all of the new knights were startled to find not only the clothes they had been wearing when they arrived but their own nice clothes, shoes and accessories so they could dress for dinner. Canvas Hearst bags were available for them to pack their casual clothes.

It took about 20 minutes for everyone to reassemble in the hallway. The guy Veronica didn't recognize, who she assumed was the Jester, introduced himself. "Hi all. Welcome. Jonathon Jerome Jacoby, but you can call me Cube inside these walls. For those of you who don't recognize me, I was the Jester tonight. Follow me."

Cube lead them back down the corridor of what looked more like a storage facility then a secret society meeting hall. A folding table had been placed in the room with a cooler containing bottles of water. All the pasta had been cleaned off the floor. There was no sign of the pillows, the costumes or the bowls. Rows of folding chairs were stacked against the walls. "Help yourselves, Ladies . . . and Trent," Cube offered. "If you don't already know each other take a minute to introduce yourselves.

The new knights took the time to greet each other. They all had some idea that their induction into the Castle was historic. Years from now they would be revered in Castle lore. For now, they simply knew they needed to stick together. At Cube's insistence they tried to call each other by their new Castle names but nicknames were so much more of a guy thing. They didn't fall into that pattern easily.

After about a half hour, another man came into the room to announce that the brothers were ready for the new Knights. Cube rounded them in size order, explaining that when they went anywhere in the Castle as a group this would be their assigned alignment. Veronica was second behind Sally and Mac was immediately behind her. Nish was third from their rear followed by Face and Dunk.

They were announced by their new names as they entered the Great Hall. The assembled brothers and alumni were milling about near the entrance. Now that she could see their faces, Veronica searched for Gory; the last thing she wanted was for him to get behind her and surprise her. She still didn't trust him.

Long tables similar to those in the dining hall in the Harry Potter movies were behind them. Twenty people could sit at each table for a total of 100 diners. The full complement of Castle Members was fifty two – thirteen members from each class – but that was only for a short time in the spring when all four classes were represented. At this time of year there were usually only 39 members because the freshman class had yet to be inducted but now there were 52. The numbers would be off for a few years while the integration of women occurred.

As each woman entered, she was handed a flute of champagne in welcome. Veronica took hers and mumbled thank you but had no intentions of drinking it because she had not seen it poured. She looked around for Jake Kane, Rodger Hearst and Mel Stolz, not that she really wanted to see any of them but she knew they were present and wanted to be prepared should any of them feel compelled to talk to her.

A bright smile crossed her face when she saw an unexpected ally and understood why even under the hood with his face hidden she had been so sure of him during the initiation. Martin Mulder, one of her instructors from the F.B.I. internship, bent to kiss her cheek in greeting. "I'm so glad you finally started to trust."

Agent Mulder had worked so hard with her over the summer. Every day they focused on the need for teamwork. To be successful in the field every agent had to be willing to put his or her hands in the lives of the other agents. The inability to rely on your team could prove fatal. It took Veronica three weeks, extra counseling with the unit psychologist and a hypnotherapy session to be able to complete the trust exercise and fall back into Agent Mulder's arms.

Blushing slightly, Veronica agreed, "Me too, Ag. . ."

Her new brother cut her off before she could call him by his real world title. "Here it's Hoover. We're all equal in the Castle, Marta."

"Hoover," she repeated feeling a little uneasy calling her boss by a silly nickname. "Do you have any idea how hard that was for me?"

"I know exactly how hard it was for you, which is why before the initiation I told the King that we were going to make you do this."

Veronica was not pleased by that revelation but her mentor continued. "I also know exactly how you got here. Despite her introduction, women coming into our ranks was your doing, not Eve's, even if she was the semi-public never to be heard from in that sense again, face of the coup." He smiled warmly to offset the venom in his words. "Women being admitted has been a long time coming and I for one am glad you're here. But, sometimes changing the old guard is tough."

Not knowing how to respond, Veronica continued to listen and Hoover continued to amaze her. "Do you honestly think that we didn't know about your little stunt last Spring?"

"We, the Castle, or we, the F.B.I.?" Veronica requested clarification.

"The Castle informed the F.B.I., or more specifically me. I told Director Freeh."

Veronica's reaction to that statement was all over the map. Before she was an intern, the Director of the F.B.I knew who she was and that she had allegedly committed a felony.

"Because we both had connections to the Castle . . . " Hoover began.

"That's right they told me the Director's son was a member."

"He is. He's not here, but I will introduce you someday. Anyway, the Director and I were both intrigued. We just knew you were going to need a refresher course on the Fourth Amendment before you come to work for us full time. If you can't manage that, we reserve the right to ship you over to the C.I.A. because in the tenth level of hell where they operate in the shadows, the Constitution is meaningless."

Relaxing a bit, Veronica let herself believe this is why she joined the Castle. She barely finished her freshman year of college but the head of the internship program was already discussing her career in the Bureau with the Director. Connections do help.

Veronica had the opportunity to meet many new people. Her knight in shining armor, Polo, whose real name was Randolph Montgomery, turned out to be the captain of polo team at the Laguna Hills Country Club. "You can call me Randy, Milady" The stallion was his prized pony, Blizzard. Veronica always wanted a pony. If she wasn't so hung up on Logan, Polo was definitely somebody she wouldn't kick out for eating crackers in bed. He was about an inch taller than Logan with a thick head of golden blonde hair and green eyes. His lean muscles indicated he was no stranger to physical activity. No matter where he went in the room, if their eyes met he'd wink at her, making her blush slightly.

Swee' Pea's father came over to introduce himself promising that defense contractors always need discrete, single-minded investigators who didn't object to getting their hands dirty when necessary.

Of course Rodger Hearst stopped by. Veronica suspected he thought that she and Nish were going to continue to cause trouble.

Brian Washington apologized if he'd hurt her while he was restraining her. "For a little bit of a thing, you are powerful. I've taken down Heisman trophy candidates who weren't a tough as you." Veronica beamed at his admission.

She spied Mel Stolz outside on a portico puffing away on a cigar chatting with Gory Sorkin. Both men glowered at her when they saw her looking. Jake didn't speak to her during the festivities, but when she'd see him across the room the expression on his face almost seemed to be fatherly pride.

After about another half hour of socializing a tuxedoed waiter came into the room clanging a small musical triangle, signaling that dinner would be served. All of the Knights were instructed to sit at their assigned places designated by place cards. For the first few weeks after a new class was initiated, the Castle would purposefully assign seats at dinner to assure that everyone had a chance to interact, rather than to only sit with people they already knew.

As the diners were finding their places, a young man moved to the front of the dining room and banged a gold scepter on the podium in the front of the dining room. Upon hearing his voice, Veronica recognized him as the King. "For those of you I didn't get a chance to meet, I'm Starman, Kyle Griffith, this year's Kind of the Castle." Veronica correctly assumed that he had some connection to the Griffith Observatory in Hollywood. He continued, "Let me welcome you. Newly admitted Knights, there will be mandatory educational meetings here on Tuesdays at 7:00 p.m. for the next six weeks. You are expected to attend unless excused in advance. Light refreshments – sandwiches and the like – will be served. We have dinner as a group on Thursday at 6:30 p.m. We encourage you to attend and network. This is how we get to know each other and how we build the Castle for the future. Congratulations again."

Veronica found herself seated next to Polo to her left and a brother who introduced himself as 1600. Veronica remembered him from Wallace's misadventures last year. He was the guy who had gotten a perfect score on his SATs. Hoover sat across from her.

Mel Stolz and Gory were thankfully on the far side of the room.

After introducing himself, 1600 inquired of Veronica, "How did you like our little initiation ritual?"

Glancing at Polo, Veronica flirtatiously replied, "I enjoyed my invitation and transportation."

1600 was smart enough to know he was missing something. There was no way a girl like Veronica Mars enjoyed being blindfolded and stuffed into the trunk of a car but he didn't say anything. With the Castle you were told what you needed to know.

"Anytime you want another ride, just say the word. Blizzard really likes you," Polo flirted back. The look on his handsome face said he was hoping she'd want to ride more than his horse.

Veronica knew she had to end this before it got out of control. "I liked Blizzard too, but I'm more of a one horse girl."

Hoover was growing increasing uncomfortable with the rising level of sexual tension at this table and decided to divert the conversation to a more neutral topic. "How are classes this semester, 16?"

Dinner passed relatively uneventfully. The food was sumptuous. If nothing else, Veronica could enjoy her Castle membership for the culinary delights alone. During dinner, her companions educated her about some of the perks of membership. The Castle controlled certain banking interests which would give her some low interest loans for school or any business endeavors she chose to pursue. They would help her find tutors if there were subjects where she needed assistance; the jocks found this particularly helpful. The Castle owned a private island off Catalina where members could get away. Veronica was somewhat disappointed to learn that only alumni could make reservations more than 24 hours in advance. Still, she hoped it might be some place she could eventually take Logan, assuming he'd ever want to go anywhere with her again. She sighed. At least now she could be relatively assured that he'd be safe.

At the end of the evening Starman returned to the podium. "This concludes tonight's festivities. To our distinguished alumni, it's always an honor. We wouldn't exist without your continued and generous support. I'll see you all next week when our topic for discussion will be proposals to remedy healthcare in America. Until then, be productive!"

#~*~*~*~*~*~*~#

Walking outside with Wallace and Mac, the three friends were amused to realize that they were at a commercial storage facility called Castle Corners which was about a block off campus. It was amazing really - hiding a secret society in plain sight while making a profit as a legitimate business.

"So what do you think?" Veronica asked her weary friends.

Wallace grinned broadly holding up two tickets, "Courtside tickets to the San Diego Savages, baby! Courtesy of Sir Knight Dribble (a/k/a LeBron Bird, power forward and NBA AllStar).

Mac didn't understand. "Basketball season started already?"

Momentarily dejected Wallace admitted, "It's pre-season." Perking up again, he reiterated "Courtside seats. Who's da man?"

All three friends giggled.

When they came to Veronica's Saturn in the relatively deserted parking lot, she unlocked the SUV with her key fob and turned to her friends. "Can I drive you to your dorms?"

Both nodded climbing into the car.

'It's gonna be an interesting semester, that's for sure,' Veronica thought to herself as she started the car.

#~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*#

**A/N:** LoVe coming soon. I promise.


	14. The Jousting Begins

**A/N:** As promised Logan returns.

#~*~*~*~*~*~*#

**Chapter 14 The Jousting Begins **

_EXTERIOR PARKING LOT _

_HEARST COLLEGE _

_SATURDAY NIGHT _

Veronica pulled into the commuter lot promptly at the appointed time. Corrine, her friend from Spanish class who had roped her into going to this party, was waiting eagerly with another girl. When Veronica stopped the car, Corrine pulled open the front passenger door while the other girl climbed into the back of the Saturn. "Veronica, this is my roommate, Angie Jaworski."

"Hey, Angie," Veronica waved making indirect eye contact with Angie through the rearview mirror. In a light pull over, a denim mini and boots Veronica felt a underdressed compared to her passengers who were both sporting sleeveless dresses with cardigans casually thrown over their shoulders and ballet flats. The outfits were a bit preppy for Veronica's taste. "Whose party is this, anyway?"

"The house belongs to a guy in my econ class, Richard. He lives there with his roommate. I don't know his name. It's supposed to be a killer house," Angie enthused.

Veronica navigated the streets of Neptune to get them all safely to the party. She had been a bit surprised to realize that the address was a beach house near her apartment. By 90909 standards it was a modest house, but even on the nice part of the wrong side of the tracks as Keith often described their neighborhood, it was directly on the beach. As they say in real estate – location, location, location – and this one was pretty prime.

Instead of taking up the whole lot, the building was smaller to allow a kidney shaped pool to abut the sand. The ocean side of the three story house was all windows and decks. Partiers were already in the pool, on the sand and hanging off the roof deck, which was connected to the outside by a spiral staircase on one side and a long, narrow staircase on the other. Veronica offered to drop off her passengers but they insisted on coming with her while she found a place to park about two blocks inland.

As the trio walked back to the house, Angie squealed, "I can't believe I'm going to a beach party in October!"

For her part Veronica was starting to get an uneasy feeling about this. Maybe she should have given in to Mac and gone with her to the small get-together Logan and Dick were hosting. At least at the Grande everyone would accept her sullen mood. The events of Thursday night still hadn't settled into her brain and she was feeling pretty wiped out. She kept reminding herself that she had done it for Logan because this was the best way to guarantee his safety. Taking a deep, cleansing breath Veronica reminded herself that attending this party was part of her new plan – broadening her horizons, making new friends and finally being a "normal" college student. She'd done what she thought was required, sacrificing her moral high ground by pledging the Castle. They'd kept up their part of the bargain so far. Now all she could do was trust that Logan was safe.

From where they had parked, it was easier for the girls to walk down the public steps and approach the party from the ocean path.

The minute they entered the gate Corrine and Angie dumped Veronica in favor of the keg. She went in search of some bottled water. It would be a cold day in hell before Veronica ever took another drink that she didn't open herself at a party.

Before she made any real progress in her search she was greeted by a familiar face. "Fancy meeting you here, M-, Veronica." He smiled appreciatively at her outfit.

Veronica hid her surprise well. "Randy," she regarded him cagily. "Will wonders never cease? What brings you here?"

Randy, aka Polo cocked his head to the side, gesturing for Veronica to look in that direction where she immediately spied Wallace and some other basketball players hooting as a girl who Veronica thought she recognized as a cheerleader did a keg stand. "Wallace invited some of the guys from the team."

"I thought you played polo, not basketball," Veronica puzzled.

"I do, but my roommate, Carl Irving, plays basketball. Can I get you a beer?" Randy asked offering her his partially full red solo cup.

"No thanks."

Shrugging, the handsome knight took a long swallow and confessed, "I had hoped you were going to be at my match this morning."

Chuckling at the irony, Veronica replied, "Me? At a polo match at some posh country club? I don't think so."

Randy realized that despite her recent initiation into the Castle, Veronica still felt like she was on the outside looking in. That happened sometimes with members who earned their way in through something other than athletics or their family's influence; they didn't realize that they, more than most, deserved to be at posh country clubs, at the board meetings and generally the ones running the world. He decided to tread lightly. "Someday I'm hoping you can come and take pictures. I've seen some of the shots you got of Wallace and other pieces you had in the _Free Press_."

Veronica was surprised that Randy had taken such an interest in her and her work. She wasn't sure if this was good or bad but she did know she was thirsty. "I'm in search of some bottled water."

Understanding that she was still spooked, Randy pointed, "I think there's some in the kitchen."

"Thanks," Veronica nodded as she moved off. Stepping through the magnetic mesh covering the opening of the sliding glass doors and reclosing automatically to keep out the bugs Veronica found herself in the first floor living room. An open kitchen with stainless steel subzero appliances was in the back. The room had a casual, comfortable elegance; it was something more than she would have expected from your average college guys. A framed lithograph of a sandcastle complete with turrets and flags captured her attention.

"Of all the parties in all the world, she walks into mine," a familiar disembodied voice called from the deep white couch.

Veronica whirled around. "Logan."

He just looked at her, waiting for an explanation. She didn't have one, at least not one she wanted to share. She only came here because she expected he'd be squirreled away at the Neptune Grande.

"Veronica! You made it. I'm so glad you changed your mind." Mac greeted her coming in from a hallway where Veronica expected the bathroom was located. Earlier in the week Mac had tried to convince Veronica to go to a party Logan and Dick were throwing for Columbus Day. Veronica had declined. There were too many memories in that hotel. Some were horrible, the stuff nightmares were made out of, but these days it was the good memories of happy times that no longer were, that shredded her heart.

"Hey, Ronnie, nice of you to make it," Dick managed some semblance of politeness.

"What . . . ?" Veronica started pointing from Dick to Logan and back again. "You, . . . you live here?"

Dick spun around arms out wide open to his sides. "Great house, isn't it? We moved in at the beginning of the semester but this is the first official bash!"

Narrowing her eyes, Veronica glared at Mac. Why hadn't anyone told her that Logan moved out of the Grande? He was apparently already living here on both occasions when she bumped into him at the beach. This explained why they ran into each other and what he was doing so close to her house. They were now neighbors. The bile began to rise in her gut. Logan had never said a word. He just let her operate under the misperception that he was still living at the Grande. In effect, he made a fool of her.

Sensing the accusations about to spew forth Mac made a pre-emptive defense. "What? I told you they moved."

"No, you didn't," Veronica snapped. "I would have remembered something like that."

Mac shook her head, then nodded. She didn't know whether she was trying to agree or disagree with Veronica. "A few weeks ago in my room, after Bruce left . . ." Mac insisted. Veronica silently quarreled with her using an almost deadly stare.

"Well, I meant to," offered Mac sheepishly, as if that fixed everything.

Angie bounded in at that point. "Hi, Richard!" Corrine was right on her roommate's heels.

Veronica closed her eyes and blew out a deep breathe through her bottom lip so the hair flew away from her bang. Of course 'Richard from econ' was Dick Casablancas.

Logan hadn't taken his eyes off Veronica since she'd crossed the threshold into the house. She was well aware of his unwavering attentions.

"Veronica, this is my friend, Richard, from econ. This is his party," Angie made unnecessary introductions.

"We've met," Veronica cut off her well-meaning new friend without breaking eye contact with Logan whose head was casually propped up on his hand atop a bent elbow against the corner of the couch. He was enjoying watching Veronica squirm.

"That's great!" Angie bubbled. "I didn't know you knew Richard."

Not being the brightest bulb, Dick asked, "Who's Richard?"

"I think she means you, doofus," Mac clarified, playfully smacking the surfer lightly on the arm.

"You moved," fumbled Veronica. "I didn't know."

Logan smirked. "What? There was something the great detective didn't know. Alert the media."

Pursing her lips Veronica attacked, "The real story is that you have graced the 90902 zip code with your illustrious presence. Are you enjoying your time slumming it? Aren't you afraid of mingling with the unwashed masses?"

"I've never been a snob, Veronica," asserted Logan.

Dick was insulted. "This is prime beach front property."

Veronica just glared at him. "This was a bad idea. I'll go."

"No, you can't go," Corrine wailed. "This is supposed to be a kick ass party."

"Yeah baby!" agreed Dick sliding his arm around his guest. "The Dickmeister will show you a good time."

Corrine shrugged him off. "Who are you?"

"Dick Casablancas – your host for the evening," Veronica explained. Logan coughed. "And, Logan Echolls, his roommate, co-host and partner in crime. Dick, Logan and Mac, this is my friend, Corrine, and her roommate, Angie. Corrine and I have Spanish together. Dick, Angie is in your econ class." Veronica pointed to various people as she described their interactions.

"I take econ?" Dick pondered his schedule.

Logan arose grandly and bowed before Corrine and Angie. "Welcome to my humble sand castle. Allow me to give you the grand tour." He was still looking at Veronica, even as he schmoozed his other guests.

Logan offered Corrine his arm which she readily took. Beaming up at him Corrine was willing to go anywhere this handsome man took her. "Lead on, kind sir."

Rolling her eyes at Corrine's obvious flirting, Veronica demurred, "I'll skip the nickel tour."

Logan was having none of that. "It's a grand tour and it's mandatory for first time visitors."

Corrine released Logan and moved over to whisper in Veronica's ear. "What's your problem? He's gorgeous."

Meeting Logan's eyes Veronica instantly knew that Logan had heard Corrine's assessment and was waiting to see what she would do next.

Holding her hands up in protest Veronica again declared, "I don't need a tour. If you've seen one multi-million dollar beach house, you've seen 'em all."

Corrine looked delighted that she was going to have Logan all to herself.

"Au contraire, Miss Mars. California law requires the property owner to identity all of the exits in case of an earthquake," Logan tried to outsmart her.

"That law only applies to commercial establishments and besides, we're not having an earthquake," Veronica countered.

Logan looked her up and down appreciatively with a hungry gleam in his eye then whispered suggestively, "Are you doubting my ability to make the earth move?"

Veronica blushed then acquiesced, "Fine, the nickel tour it is."

"I'm going to get another beer. Anybody want anything?" Dick asked.

"I'll go with you," Angie gushed. Dick was oblivious as the overdressed girl followed him outside.

Mac burst out laughing. "Can I come on the tour too?"

Logan looked at her quizzically. "MacKenzie you've been here a dozen times."

"Really?" Veronica had no idea. How had she missed out on so much of her friends' lives?

"But I've never had a tour," Mac whined teasingly.

Something devilish in the twinkle in Mac's eye told Logan that letting her come could later prove useful. "Well then, the more the merrier," Logan conceded.


	15. The Lance Hits its Target

**Chapter 15 **

**The Lance Hits its Target**

Logan took them on a tour of the whole house. By his standards it was a fairly modest home, but Corrine was still blown away. The first floor consisted of the living area, kitchen and huge bathroom with a multi-head shower bigger than a small car. There was also a steam room that could accommodate four which was currently filled to exceed capacity. The second floor contained three more bedrooms – one was empty except for an inflatable mattress on the floor; the other was set up as an office; the third contained work out equipment. There was also a bathroom with a full laundry on this floor. The top floor contained twin master suites joined by another luxurious bathroom sporting a deep Jacuzzi tub. The views out of the west side of the house were incredible. Remotes controlled the various window treatments. One setting could make the winfows opaque but still allow light to filter in and not ruin the view. Another controlled gossamer coverings and blackout drapes.

One of the top floor luxury bedrooms room was a mess. There were clothes on the floor. The bed looked like it had been through a tornado. Every flat surface was littered with clutter – empty cups, empty bottles and cans, pens, discarded take out containers, knickknacks and even money was carelessly scattered around.

The other room was immaculate. The bed was made. A textbook was on the nightstand. A small bookcase was filled with several classics. By the age of the leather, Veronica suspected they might be first editions. Every article of clothing was put away. Veronica knew if she opened a closet or a drawer the contents would be color coordinated. The rooms were a stark contrast but accurately reflected the personalities of their occupants.

"Which one's yours, Logan?" Corrine flirted with him, running her hand suggestively up his arm.

"This one," he lied since they were standing in Dick's messy room.

Veronica and Mac both looked away to avoid cracking up with laughter. Anyone who knew Logan knew he loathed mess, except when he was depressed and oblivious. Even though he was used to having a small army of maids, valets and personal attendants Logan would always take the time to straighten up his personal area. How he and Dick managed to live together for so long was both a mystery and a testament to skill of the cleaning staff at the Neptune Grande. Veronica wondered if whoever they hired to pick up after them here would do the same superb job. Despite his preference for neatness, she had no illusions that Logan would ever lower himself to genuinely clean.

As expected, the messy room was a turn off for Corrine. The disappointment was visible on her face.

Mac grabbed Corrine's hand and opened a door in the hall that Veronica had mistakenly assumed was a closet. Instead it led to a staircase. "Let me show you the roof deck."

Once Mac had Corrine through the door to the roof, Logan grabbed Veronica's hand and pulled her through the bathroom into his room, slamming the door behind him. Releasing her, he moved to shut and locked his bedroom door, then leaned against it as further barricade to any potential intruders. Veronica was initially dumfounded not sure whether Logan was trying to keep her in or other people out but for now, she chose to ignore him. She knew she wasn't in physical danger. Logan would never hurt her.

Turning around she gazed out the windows at the darkening sky. "The view is amazing," she genuinely gushed.

"Yeah," Logan breathed, not looking out the window but rather at Veronica. Satisfied she wasn't trying to escape from him, Logan moved over to lock the door to the bathroom.

"I meant the ocean."

Busted, Logan agreed. "You should see it when every light isn't on downstairs or at sunset."

Veronica had settled herself into the small sofa in a corner of the room and continued to staee out the window. She wasn't looking at him when she spoke. "When did you and Dick move in here?"

"I'm still in shock that there is something the great Veronica Mars didn't know about me," Logan taunted her. "Did the batteries in all of your tracking devices die simultaneously?"

"You know, as hard as this may be for your over-inflated ego to take, but I don't stalk you, Logan," Veronica rejoined. This whole conversation reminded Veronica too much of high school when Logan used to spread vicious rumors about her e-mailing pictures of herself to Duncan in the hopes of getting him back sophomore and junior year.

"Calm down. I assumed Mac told you."

"She didn't." Veronica sounded disappointed. She wondered how long her friends would have kept her in the dark before she found out Logan moved out of the Grande. "It really is a nice house. It must have set you back a pretty penny even in this part of town."

"You'd think," Logan began, "but it's actually Dick's."

Veronica couldn't believe her ears. "There's no way Dick was smart enough to buy real estate. Who read the contract to him?"

Logan laughed. Dick was smarter than most people gave him credit for but he still reveled in his role as the class buffoon. "I don't know all the details but there was something Kendall did called the Phoenix Land Trust and this house was left in trust for Beav . . . Cassidy."

"Really? Kendall? Did she leave you anything while she was passing out real estate to her 'boys'?" Veronica teased him.

Logan wasn't thrilled that Veronica was throwing his relationship with Dick's stepmom in his face but he was willing to accept some good natured ribbing.

"Mac knows more about it than I do. She did all the art work and the website for the company back when she and Beav. . . Cassidy. . . . I don't know all the details but it looks like after their father left Cassidy started his own company. I guess before he went crazy." Logan shared as much of the story as he understood. He also hated to discuss the younger Casablancas with Veronica because of all that had happened. "Anyway, their mother's lawyers found this place – paid in full – when they were sorting through the Estate. Their mom thought Big Dick did this somehow. Everyone assumed he either lost or sold a second property for Dick. In truth Cassidy probably bought it for himself. When probate closed she gave this house – Cassidy's house - to Dick and here we are."

Veronica shivered. Anything about Cassidy Casablancas constituted a living nightmare as far as she was concerned. The mention of his name immediately filled her mind with memories of an exploding plane and then that awful morning after Shelly Pommery's party. She'd never admit it but part of her would always be glad he jumped and a smaller part wished that Logan hadn't stopped her from shooting him.

"Are you cold?" Logan inquired concerned and walking toward her. "I can turn the heat up. . . or get you a blanket."

"No, it's not the temperature." She hoped he understood.

"Yeah, I guess I already processed this and . . . well I've always had a way of divorcing real estate from the horrible things that may have happened there." Logan shrugged off his nonchalance.

"That explains why you were able to live in the Grande for so long after . . . well, after everything," Veronica surmised.

"He never actually lived here, for whatever that's worth," Logan tried to reassure her.

Veronica nodded, acknowledging that revelation as a positive bot verbally replying.

Logan had come over and sat on the small couch with her. There was about eight inches of space between them. "So, do you really like it? A man's home is his castle, after all."

Veronica got up. It was an expansive room with high ceilings but once Logan sat down, the small couch felt too confining. "I do." She took in the rich blues and greens, accented with sea grass and other natural nautical elements against the contrast of the slate grey steel furniture. "It suits you – masculine, strong, elegant yet soothing, but . . . .there's a . . . . movement, a restlessness, like the sea itself." Her voice grew wistful as her sentence trailed off.

Logan was impressed. Veronica wasn't usually so poetic. Although she had phrased it more eloquently than he had, those characteristics where exactly what he'd hope to evoke when he originally envisioned the design of the room. He had been trying to create a space that reflected his love of the ocean without being a hackneyed beach house marred by the tchotchkes available in every seaside souvenir stand. It made him happy that she approved.

Not knowing where else to sit, Veronica perched awkwardly on the foot of Logan's king sized bed and stared at him. He reached out a long muscular arm and snagged a remote control pff the nightstand which he used to shut off the bright overhead tract lights, dim the bed side lamps and add translucence to the windows. Loud music with a heavy bass was rattling the room from the party going on all around them in the rest of the house. The atmosphere in the room became softer and more intimate once he'd lowered the lights which made Veronica increasingly uncomfortable. "I don't know what you think, but a romantic interlude isn't happening."

"Relax," Logan instructed. "I wasn't trying to seduce you. I just wanted less harsh light and to make it seem like no one's in here, in case anybody comes looking for us."

Gazing out of the gigantic picture windows, Veronica allowed herself to dream. "It must be incredible to wake up to this view."

"Any time you want to try it, your side of the bed is always open," Logan offered sincerely. "No strings attached."

Veronica ignored him and returned to her silent contemplation of the dark ocean outside. From here, at night, only the white foam was discernible when the waves pounded the beach. She could smell the salt in the air but since they were inside, she assumed that was just her imagination recalling a sensory memory.

Standing up, Logan walked over to a credenza and pulled it open a vertical cabinet door to reveal a small dorm-sized refrigerator. "You want something to drink?" The 'fridge was filled mostly with alcohol but there were some other beverages stocked as well.

"I'll take a water," Veronica replied holding out her hand for a bottle. "Thanks," she said shyly when Logan's fingertips grazed hers as they made the exchange.

Pulling a beer for himself, then changing his mind and opting for water, Logan came over and sat on the bed next to her. "Are we gonna talk about it, or what?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," declared Veronica. She really didn't. With Logan you never knew. Did he want to discuss the meaning of life or the latest installment of MTV's _Jackass_?

Regarding here carefully, Logan wasn't convinced she didn't know what he was talking about. "The Castle. Duncan. Your father. Sorkin. The election. . . . . Us. Any of it? All of it?"

Veronica put on her best poker face. She didn't know what Logan thought he knew, but she wasn't going to confirm or deny anything.

"Don't try to play coy with me, young lady. I taught you the game. I know the Castle offered you membership and in exchange for your silence and your help making their little publicity problem go away, you got them to agree to keep Sorkin and his goon squad away from me."

Willing herself to breathe, Veronica searched the room for an escape or an answer before she decided misdirection was her best bet. "I don't know what you think you know, but I don't know what you're talking about."

"I also know the initiation was Thursday night," Logan shared.

Veronica's eyes widened slightly at that revelation. Logan was apparently far more aware of what was going on with her than she was of him.

Exasperated by her refusal to open up, Logan ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled deeply. "This is me, Veronica. First of all, if I pulled this evasive crap on you, you'd taser my ass." When that earned him a reluctant smile, he kept talking. "Second, DK told me all about it. Why do you think he was so confident when he told you that if Sorkin backed down, I would too? He asked me first, Ronnie."

"You saw Duncan?" Logan had certainly been keeping a lot from her.

"Yeah," Logan confessed. "His father sent him the video and he went ballistic."

Veronica put her hands over her mouth and cast her eyes down in embarrassment. Duncan saw the video. That must have been what he meant when he'd said he knew everything. Would her shame never end?

Logan continued. "He got home shortly after you left for your internship. He barged into the Grande and leveled me, laid me flat out. I never even saw it coming." Logan was playing with his jaw, moving it from side to side as if trying to realign it, phantom pain returning at the memory of Duncan's rage. "I gotta say, I didn't think he had it in him, but I understand exactly how he felt."

Veronica was confused. Logan beat the snot out of Piz when he thought Piz taped them. Then he pummeled Gory because Gory admitted to making and distributing the video. Duncan couldn't have thought Logan would tape her. Then again, before it happened people probably couldn't fathom Aaron taping anybody either. It was also clear that Logan was not the guy on the tape.

"He blamed me for not protecting you."

We were back to this. "It wasn't your job to protect me. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself," Veronica insisted starting to rise from the bed.

Logan threw himself backwards onto the bed in frustration, then sat up again. "You just don't get it, do you? It's not that you can't. It's that you shouldn't have to."

"Logan," Veronica started to reply but he cut her off by pulling her back down.

"Don't you understand? We care about you . . . ." Logan decided to go for broke. "I . . . I love you!"

"We already made it past second base. You don't have to say things like that," Veronica hoped to lighten the mood. She didn't want to rehash old battles. She thought the distance she'd been maintaining would end Logan's irrational need to always protect her. She couldn't let him, especially when she couldn't always protect him.

"Uggghhhh," Logan reached toward her and made a motion in front of her face like he was going to wrap his hands around her throat and strangle her. "I'm not just saying that. And even if you can't say it, you love me too or you never would have joined the damn Castle."

"I didn't do it for you. I did it for me, . . . for the connections for the power," she lied.

"Bullshit," Logan called her bluff. "You never cared about any of that. We both know with your force of will you'd make with or without those connections or even if they tried to block your path."

"There's only one reason you'd agree to join something like the Castle, especially after all the trouble you went through to expose the Titans in high school. You did it because you were afraid there wasn't another way for you to ensure that Gory and I didn't kill each other. You did it for me," Logan declared. His eyes bored into her, as if he could straight into her soul and he dared her to lie him when they both knew it was the truth: she loved him and would do anything for him.

Veronica was quiet. When she couldn't meet Logan's eye, he got confirmation that he was right. Grabbing her face in his hands he forced her head up so she had no choice but to look at him. He dropped his voice to a husky whisper, his mouth only a few inches from hers. Involuntarily she licked her lips and swallowed. "Look at me," he demanded. "Look me in the eyes right now and tell me you don't love me."

Her eyes glanced to the left and right, anywhere but directly into the intense dark brown pools drilling into her heart and soul. Veronica felt like she couldn't breathe and that hear heart was beating so fast it might burst through her chest wall.

"Just admit it already. You. Love. Me." Logan released his grip on her head. "Why is that so hard for you? You'll stand up to a bunch of outlaw bikers. You'll piss off the Fitzpatricks. You'll run headlong into danger but you won't admit you're in love." Logan shook his head and pounded his fists into the bed in frustration. "What is it about me that's so awful, Veronica?"

#*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*#


	16. Under the Armor

A/N: The finale you have all been waiting for. I promise. It's a real LoVe story. I hope you enjoy it.

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**Chapter 16: Under her Armor**

Logan's words sliced through Veronica's heart like a knife. She tried to free herself from his psychological grasp. Even though he wasn't physically restraining her, the magnetism was undeniable. "You don't understand," she began. There wasn't anything about him that was awful – quite the contrary actually.

"Then explain it to me," Logan pleaded his voice breaking with emotion. "I'm right here."

"If. . . if I love you. . . I'm . . . I'm gonna lose myself in you . . . . and then, and then,. . ." Veronica willed herself no to cry, but her voice was already cracking. When she sniffed audibly, Logan handed her a tissue. Rather than continue to stare at her, he scooted over and rested the length of his thigh against the length of hers so they were sitting side by side. Without words he urged her to continue and she did. Logan reached one arm around her back, cradling Veronica into him and used the other to take her free hand, the one not holding the tissue. "If I love you and . . . I lose you. . . I don't think I'll survive. I just can't do it anymore. I have to keep you safe and somehow that usually means without me."

"Shhhhh," Logan began rubbing his hand up and down her back soothing her. "I'm not going anywhere, Veronica. I love you."

"But Lily left. Duncan left. My mom left. Your mom. . ." Veronica tried to explain, but the tears were falling freely now, washing away all the pent up fear and frustration from the last several years. Once that dam broke, there was no holding back. Years of hurt, of anger and of disappointment came tumbling out. She wept for Lily, for Meg, and for baby Lily who would never know her mother and for all of the kids on the bus. She wept for herself, for the loss of her innocence, for the pieces stolen by Cassidy, by Aaron, by her alcoholic mother, by Logan and Duncan as well as Mercer and Moe. She wept for her dad, for all the things he lost and all the things she took from him without meaning to. The tears kept flowing from the depths of her soul and she had no ability to stop them.

Logan continued to hold her as her body shook loose the grief and pain that had built up inside her. This wasn't what he had expected when he started this conversation, when he pushed her buttons, but maybe this was better. It was time to get it all out in the open and out of her system. She needed this catharsis. They both did. It was the only way to wash the slate clean once and for all.

As Veronica sobbed Logan pulled her gently backwards onto the bed with him, and maneuvered her small frame so she was curled around him as she wept into his chest.

Veronica was torn by the dichotomy of her own emotions. The more familiar feelings were anger and shame. She had lost control. She was allowing herself to be vulnerable, a luxury she could rarely afford. She struggled to regain her composure but the force of her emotions was too overwhelming. She needed this release more than she even understood. Surprisingly, she also felt loved and comforted - cherished - that Logan was trying to sooth her. He wasn't taking advantage of her or shrinking away from her in disgust.

When the tears finally subsided and her body stopped convulsing from the heart wrenching sobs, Logan tilted Veronica's chin up and dried her tears with the pad of this thumb.

"Thank you," he whispered staring into her beautiful blue tearstained and swollen eyes.

"Thank you?" Veronica repeated incredulously as she sat up and unzipped her heavy boots tossing them on the floor. Patting around the bed with her hand, Veronica finally found her water bottle without looking. Unscrewing the cap, she took a long drink, as though she was trying to replace the moisture that had flowed out through her eyes. "Ah, . . . Logan, why are you thanking me? God, I was crying so hard, I actually got your shirt wet." She nodded her head toward the darkened patch on his chest and swallowed trying to force down her own embarrassment at having bawled so openly.

Sitting up, he looked down to see a wet area on his shirt and smiled tenderly. "I'm thanking you because I know that was one of the hardest things you ever did – allow yourself to be vulnerable, to cry, . . . . to let somebody – to let _me_ – comfort you." He tried to gather her into his arms but she didn't return willingly and he wasn't going to pull her. Still he stroked her back in wide circles. "You don't always have to be so strong, you know."

Veronica regarded at him with a softness in her eyes Logan hadn't seen since before Lily died, maybe not since freshman year of high school.

With his free hand, Logan took her hand in his. "Still, other than . . . the night we thought your father died in that explosion, I've never seen you cry. The fact that you could show me that side of you . . . after everything . . . It tells me how much, deep down that you do trust me."

"Trust doesn't come easy to me," Veronica reluctantly admitted, "But you're right. Even when I get crazy, even when I push you away . . . You've always been my rock, my hero."

"I'm nobody's hero," decried Logan.

"Relax," joked Veronica. "You don't have to wear a cape and tights."

Letting go of her hand, Logan opened his arms to her and responded to her more serious sentiments. "We'll work on it."

Veronica accepted his invitation and laid back down with her head on his chest, careful to avoid the area that was still wet from her tears.

"I missed you," he whispered into her hair before placing a soft kiss on her head.

Maneuvering herself up his body so that they were more eye to eye, Veronica echoed his words, "I missed you too."

Not quite believing his own eyes or that Veronica was here in his room, Logan had to ask, "Where do we go from here?"

Quirking an eyebrow at Logan, incorrectly assuming he was suggesting something else, Veronica coyly teased as she ran her hand over his chest and abs, seeking entrance under his T-shirt, "Where do you think this is going?"

Logan grabbed her wrist to immobilize her hands, "No. This has to be about more than sex, Veronica."

The blonde was momentarily dumbfounded. Logan was turning down sex? The world had indeed gone mad. "I don't know. You're the one who said we were epic."

He hated when Veronica threw his own words back at him. The woman had no regard for poetic license. She took everything so literally. "Don't you think there's been enough lives ruined and bloodshed?"

"We haven't been to another continent," she baited him.

"God damn it, Veronica. I'm serious." Logan scowled at her. "We can't just fall into bed again. It never resolves anything."

Trying to return the mood to something light and playful and hoping to avoid a serious conversation, Veronica tried to distract him, "Well it does tend to relieve certain pressures." As she spoke she moved her hand down to skim over the ever growing bulge in his jeans. Even though Logan's words may be saying stop, his body told her he was lying. Knowing that she still had a physical effect on him returned Veronica to some semblance of normalcy. Despite her outburst, they were still Logan and Veronica; their physical attraction couldn't be denied or matched.

Again Logan stilled Veronica's hand and moved it back to his abdomen outside of his t-shirt. "You have to stop running from me. You have to trust me. We have to trust each other."

There was that word again. That concept. Trust. Why was everybody so hung up on trust? She had freely and repeatedly given him her body. After everything that she'd been through, why couldn't he understand how hard that had been for her? Why couldn't that be enough?

When Veronica tilted her head up, Logan was staring at her intently but without any hint of arousal in his face, which contrasted with his lower body.

Veronica shut her eyes. This was her new semester – her new start. She drifted back to the summer – the hypnotherapist had taught her to go to her safe place; ironically as much as she'd struggled with intimacy, her safe place was Logan's arms, right where she was now. She remembered Hoover's voice from the summer and the initiation. If she could trust relative strangers – even friends like Mac and Wallace – to catch her before she fell, why couldn't she trust Logan?

There were reasons not to trust him – he abandoned her after Lilly's death; he tried to make her life in high school hell; Madison; his drinking; and his insistence on resolving most things with violence. But there were reasons to trust him too. Although he wasn't exactly predictable, in most situations Veronica knew how he'd react, even if she didn't particularly like how he reacted. He apologized repeatedly for how he acted in high school. It was also high school. It wasn't really fair to judge somebody by how they behaved when they were sixteen. Plus even in the midst of the torment, he'd come to her rescue at the Camelot. His drinking wasn't as out of control as it had been in the past; he also never drove drunk, preferring to call a car service or stay where he was. She couldn't even say he cheated on her because while flirting came as naturally to Logan as breathing, he never took it any further with another woman while they were together. He even sought her permission before asking out Parker. As much as she loathed Madison, the logical side of her brain had to concede that Logan's dalliance with her happened while they were broken up. Veronica fully understood how love and sex could be used as weapons. She'd thrown Duncan in Logan's face as often as he tormented her with Kendall. Deep down she would have to admit that she'd kissed Piz that first time in part because Logan was watching. The fighting and the anger still scared her. She knew he'd never raise a hand to her, or their children, but still the fact that Logan was quick to hit, or worse, made him scary. Again she thought about the fire at the community pool. Could she really excuse that as a childish prank?

"Trust is hard for me, Logan." He looked crestfallen at her statement. "But, I'm working on it and I'd like to work on it with you, . . . with us."

Logan's whole face lit up.

With that confession, Veronica bent her head to kiss the man lying beneath her. The second their lips met, the smoldering need between them exploded into a blazing passion. Lips melded. Trounces danced. Hands roamed freely reigniting familiar passions. Clothes were unceremoniously shed as the lovers crawled up each other and the bed between kisses, licks, caresses, and nibbles allowing their bodies to say without words just how deeply the connections and the love between them ran. It was powerful and tender, just like them. Their joining was more than just two bodies – it was two souls – each the other's missing half – reconnecting.

Afterwards, once they had both regained the ability to breathe, Logan used the remote to shut off all the lights. It would have been the perfect romantic setting but for the continued pounding of the bass from the music at the party.

"I hate parties," Veronica lamented, listening to the beating of Logan's strong heart which not in time with the music.

"No you don't. But it would be nice if all these people weren't here," Both Logan and Veronica remembered the last time he'd said that to her, as they snuck away from the ridiculous party Aaron had thrown for Logan when they were forced to announce their relationship to all their friends.

"It's your house. Can't you do something? Didn't you say a man's home is his castle?"

"If only I could, my Queen. If only I could."

Somehow, despite the music, Logan and Veronica managed to drift off to sleep in each other's arms.

As predicted, Veronica awoke to breathing taking view the next morning – a naked Logan sleeping peacefully next to her, with a contended smile on his face. Maybe, just maybe, she thought, fairytales could come true.

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**A/N:** I hope you enjoyed this. I had fun writing it. I was trying to come up with something I thought could have been an episode so I endeavored to have it be more than a romance and to have multiple plot lines: LoVe, Bruce the drag queen, & the Castle initiation. I'd love to know if anybody thinks I succeeded.

I appreciated all of the reviews. Many of you helped to shape the story. The scenes with the initiation were not in my original draft; they came later in response to feedback.

I can't promise a sequel because I don't usually write them. My muse seems to have temporarily abandoned me. I'm not sure when she will be returning because my cable company moved SoapNet to a channel I don't get so I no longer have access to the re-runs. I do feel a different story starting to percolate but no promises.

Thanks again for giving me this outlet and for all of your encouragement and feedback.


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